Skittering Tracks
by Quatre Winner
Summary: When his life runs off course, Shuichi Shindou fades away. An amnesiac Ryou Mizuhara rises in his stead, surviving what has taken Shuichi. But perhaps the two aren't so different after all.
1. Prologue

I came up with this years back. I don't remember why, and I don't remember exactly when, but last year I finally decided to write it. It would have have met the fate of all the other stories I started and never finished if it hadn't been for my friend Eria squeeing over it. So, here we are.

As far as pairings go, I'll leave that as a surprise. Warnings? Look out for graphic descriptions of a major accident this chapter. As for the rest? It's Gravitation, so yeah. This hasn't been properly beta'd since my beta's preoccupied so please forgive any mistakes.

I don't own Beyblade, Gravitation, or Stargate: SG-1. Yes, Stargate characters make an appearance. They belong to their respective owners and I do not seek to make any money from this work.

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Prologue**

"I'll see you tomorrow, guys!" Shindou Shuichi called from the doorway of NG studio's recording room, where his bandmates were packing up their instruments and stowing them in the provided lockers. They waved farewell to him as he bounced out, exiting the building at top speed lest he be stopped by K or anyone else bent on keeping him from going home. He'd had a great day recording his latest song, but he was eager to get back to his boyfriend, Yuki Eiri.

As he left the building, he noted the traffic piled up outside the building. It was a long walk home, and he didn't want to leave Yuki worrying about whether or not he'd been mugged or waylaid by the ever-ready K for some odd promotion scheme, so he decided to take the train. He hurried to the station and, after buying his ticket, found that he had a few minutes before it came, so he settled into a seat and took a good look around out of boredom.

There was a woman with her children sitting on a bench nearby, the woman fussing over her daughter's hair, trying to smooth it back into place where it had come loose from its bows. The young boy was occupying himself with his lollipop, his mouth a vibrant green color because of the candy, but he stuck close to his mother.

A little farther off, a man in a smart-looking suit checked his watch, then looked where the train was expected to come from. Upon closer inspection, Shuichi noticed that the man's tie was a bit loose around his neck, and his shirt was partially untucked, and his face was tired but hopeful.

Shuichi couldn't help but smile. Everyone around him was eager to head home, he knew, where their friends and families were waiting for them. As if on cue, the train pulled up then, and Shuichi boarded with the rest of the passengers. The woman and her children followed him onto the train, while the businessman boarded two cars down. A person squeezed onto the train as the doors were closing, a man wearing a blue jean jacket and an orange baseball cap, but Shuichi wouldn't have noticed except for the suitcase the man carried.

The train left the station at 2015, Shuichi noting the time so he could tell Yuki when he related his day to his boyfriend later on. Too eager to sit, he danced in place instead, practicing a few moves he planned on using at his next concert. The woman had taken a seat near him and had noted her son's messy appearance, working to rectify it despite childish protests.

Twenty minutes later, the train pulled up at another station, where it became filled to capacity. Squeezed next to the window, Shuichi saw the man with the orange baseball cap exit the train, and noticed that he had left behind the suitcase. As the train pulled away at 2040, the crowd redistributed itself more evenly among the cars, allowing Shuichi to break his intimate encounter with the window and stand more comfortably. He glanced at a nearby watch every couple of minutes, eagerly awaiting the next stop, where he'd depart and head on home to Yuki.

Because he was checking the time so often, he knew that at 2053, the world exploded.

The train bucked suddenly, as if it had hit a bump on the track. Then came a sound like thunder, immediately followed by screaming. Shuichi grabbed onto the overhead rack and clung to it like his life depended on it as the train rocked a few times, then toppled. He wasn't on the side that hit the ground, but the glass behind him shattered, flying into his back like dozens of tiny, burning knives. He cried out in pain, losing his grip on the rack and crashing hard into the ground. He landed between two bodies, the woman from before victim to a shred of glass and her little girl, blood spreading from the wound on her head. The young boy was still alive, though, howling in grief as he clung to his mother, shaking her in vain. Shuichi pulled him away and scrambled upwards, where he could see open sky amongst pillars of smoke through the broken window.

As he reached the luggage rack and hauled himself up, a man behind him, undoubtedly meaning well, opened the door to another car. An inferno swallowed him, rushing for Shuichi like hell's flames, and he reacted quickly, desperately throwing the young boy to the window, where he could see him scramble out. He reached for the window as well, feeling the flames rushing at him, and knew that he didn't have a chance. Even as his hand reached the sill, his hand being sliced on the glass, the flames engulfed him, choking him, and he lost his hard-won grip, slipping backwards. His head slammed against the rack that had saved his life once, but now seemed bent on claiming it, and he screamed his frustration, knowing that he would never get to see Yuki again. Merciful blackness claimed him, as a hand darted through the window and heaved him out. A large man cradled him protectively, casting a glance back to the window, which was now filled with flames, before rushing him to where ambulances had started gathering.

. . . . . . .

The hospital was a madhouse as victims of the train wreck were hauled through the doors, teams of nurses and doctors struggling to save the few lucky souls who hadn't been burnt to a crisp or killed. One Doctor Janet Frasier, despite being on vacation, had immediately left her adopted daughter in the care of her local friends and gone to the hospital to lend her aid, which was gladly received.

It was because of this that, after treating dozens of patients with cuts, burns, and other such injuries, she found herself caring for her most shocking patient of the night. Despite what she'd seen in her usual line of work, she knew this was one sight that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Her patient was a young man, most likely a teenager, with second-degree burns across most of his body. His skull and face were only lightly burned, fortunately, but there wasn't a strand of hair left on his head and she wondered if his eyes had come out of this ordeal unscathed. To complicate matters, shards of glass had lacerated his back, his legs and arms suffering only minor cuts, while a large gash presented itself on his left cheek. Paramedics, she had been told, had removed the remains of several teeth from his mouth and X-rays were in the works to see if his jaw was cracked. She could see several large shards of glass still embedded in the largest of the cuts, a sight that made her heart clench, and it was with a determined look on her face that she snapped on a new pair of gloves and set to work, issuing sharp orders through an interpreter.

She wouldn't let this young man die on her watch.

. . . . . . .

"Authorities are still investigating the cause of the train wreck two days ago, though they haven't released details of the case. All they are saying is they believe it to be the work of a lone person whose motives and means have yet to be determined. As we've reported before, at least one hundred were killed and many more injured."

A blonde man watched the news somberly, his light brown eyes never wavering from the woman on the screen. A closer glance revealed the harried look Yuki Eiri had, worry and grief turning the normally composed author into a wreck, and the others assembled in his living room weren't looking any better. The assorted members of Bad Luck and Nittle Grasper were in a similar state, the air of the room heavy with their dark moods. The reporter on the screen shuffled her papers, ignorant of the hearts she was about to break, before continuing her report.

"Among the casualties of the ill-fated train is Shindou Shuichi, aspiring rock star and member of the up and coming band Bad Luck. Security tapes indicate that Shindou boarded the train outside NG Studios, but did not disembark before the accident. Though his body hasn't been identified, it is believed that he is among those who are too disfigured for identification. His friends and family are hoping that this is not the case, and investigations will continue."

Nakano Hiroshi turned off the television, dark red hair obscuring his blue eyes as the guitarist turned to the rest of the room. Beside him, Fujisaki Suguru stared down at his hands glumly, seeming not to notice the tears streaming from brown eyes.

"So that's it, then?" Hiro asked darkly, hand clenched around the television remote. "We write him off and go on with our lives?"

Seguchi Tohma's expression was carefully blank, the only sign of his grief being the darkness in his blue eyes. "No matter what happened, I'm sure Shuichi would want us to continue with our lives. He wouldn't want us to be saddened by his loss." He glanced at the remaining members of Bad Luck, carefully avoiding looking directly into Hiro's eyes. "However, if you need time off, I understand."

Yuki remained silent throughout the conversation, his attention focused on the carpet between his feet. Giving up hope was the hardest thing he'd done, and that included the decision he very nearly made in New York. Shuichi just couldn't be gone…

"It's getting late," Tohma decided. "We all need to rest, and I'm sure Yuki would like time alone." He stood and ushered everyone out of the door, bidding them each a good night before returning to sit beside Yuki. "How are you holding up?"

"I miss him," Yuki whispered, burying his face into his hands. "I can't remember… when was the last time I told him I loved him? He knew I did, of course, but the last time I actually told him… what if he didn't really know? I did love him, but he… What am I going to do?"

"Live," Tohma said, suddenly fierce. He gripped Yuki's hands firmly, forcing the younger blonde to look up at him. "I know what you're thinking, and I'm telling you, he'd want you to live. He chased you all the way to New York just to have you look at his song! If you didn't live, I'm sure he'd chase you to Hell."

"But I was living for him," Yuki murmured, leaning forward to rest his head on Tohma's shoulder. The elder blonde released Yuki's hands and rubbed his shoulders soothingly, offering him the comfort he so desperately needed. "Without him, what is there?"

"His memory," Tohma informed him, voice strong and sure. "Live for that, if nothing else. He'd be very sad if you didn't."

Yuki looked up at his old friend, gauging his expression and weighing it in his mind. After a moment he smiled, a sad broken thing that nonetheless was genuine."Thanks," he whispered.


	2. Chapter 1

Did I mention that this fic was already complete? Warnings are the same as before, as is the disclaimer. I also admit I did zero research on burns and the like, so yeah.

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**Chapter 1**

Four weeks after the already-infamous train wreck that had quickly become international news, Doctor Janet Frasier was still at Tokyo General Hospital as a guest physician. Her duties were remarkably light, having only one patient to tend to, but this one patient turned out to be a full-time job in and of itself. She was faintly surprised that the US Air Force was allowing her to stay in Japan, as she had duties to attend to back home, but after talking with the hospital administrator and various child psychology experts she knew that perhaps this was the best situation for her lone patient.

The boy in question she knew only as Ryou, and he was the boy she'd struggled so desperately to save those many weeks ago. He'd awakened a week after the wreck in a state of acute terror and disorientation, and it had been Janet and her adopted daughter, Cassandra, that had calmed the boy enough to explain what was going on, and only after days of talking to the terrified boy. It was only after gaining his trust that they learned of his inability to remember who he was. Since then, he only seemed to trust Janet and Cassandra, the latter having gifted him with his new name.

Three weeks later, he'd gone from a terrified young man to a closed off teen, staring at everyone but Janet and Cassandra with a mix of fear and distrust. Janet walked into his room this morning to see the familiar guarded expression, a single violet eye glittering dangerously in the dusk of the room. He didn't like having the blinds open or the lights on, forcing Janet to work in a state of dim twilight. It wasn't the worst conditions she'd ever seen, but it didn't bode well for Ryou himself.

"Good morning," Janet greeted him in passable Japanese, closing the door behind her and walking over to the bed. She picked up the boy's chart, glad that the hospital had printed out a separate chart for her to work with, and glanced over the contents with a practiced eye. "How are you feeling today?"

The boy turned from her, closing his one visible eye dismissively. Janet found the bulky bandage covering the boy's left eye and cheek, as well as his head, to be strangely symbolic, as if the real Ryou were only hiding from her, to be revealed in time. Poetic thoughts pushed aside, she set about her morning routine, snapping on her gloves and systematically stripping the boy's bandages, cleaning the burns and gashes, and rewrapping them. To her dismay, these bandages still covered most of his body, but it was with mingled relief and hope that she noted that with every passing day, she bandaged less.

She left the most obvious bandage for last, talking lightly as she unwrapped the boy's head and observed the damage. His skull was still reddened, black strands of hair persevering despite their damaged homes, but she noted that within a day or so, she wouldn't need to bandage his skull. His eye was a different matter, she soon found when she shone her penlight into it. The optometrists were optimistic about him being able to use it again, but for now Ryou couldn't see out of it due to the blast of heat that had nearly burned it out of its socket, rupturing vessels within the eye itself. The cut on his left cheek, she was saddened to note, would scar, but it seemed like a small price to pay for the privilege of living.

After noting her observations on the chart, she set to the task of bandaging the boy's head once more. All through this she kept up the light chatter, mostly in Japanese but sometimes lapsing into English when she couldn't think of the words, and Ryou didn't say one word, though she hadn't expected him to. It was disheartening to see him close himself off like this, though…

"You know," she said conversationally as she finished her task, "you won't make any friends if you don't talk to anyone."

This stirred him into action, one violet eye glaring piercingly at her. "And what would I talk about?" he asked bitterly. "Their friends? Family?" He looked away, but not before she caught the pain lingering in his gaze. "No thanks."

Janet sighed, not liking the bit of news she was to pass on, but knowing it had to be said. "The hospital is thinking of releasing you in a few weeks," she informed him. "Since we don't know who your family is, you'll be released into a foster home or orphanage until the state can figure out where you go. We're only guessing at your age, so it may be a bit tricky…"

Ryou said nothing, and she found her train of thought derailed. With an effort, she forced herself back to her task.

"I've done some asking around and I've found a few families who would be willing to take you in," she said softly. "Any one of them that you'd choose, the hospital will release you to them. They want to meet you, but only if you're willing. What do you want to do?"

The boy glanced at the door, then back at her, reading her more thoroughly than she'd have liked to admit. "I'm guessing," he declared, voice emotionless, "that one family is waiting outside."

Janet had the grace to look sheepish. "You're right. Mr. Mizuhara runs a gaming store and has a son a bit younger than we believe you to be, and he's eager to help you. Please give him a chance?"

Ryou looked at Janet, shocking the doctor at his suddenly grateful expression. It was the first emotion besides terror she'd seen the young man willingly show. "I'll meet them. Thank you for looking after me this whole time."

"It's no trouble at all," she grinned, elated. There was hope for him, she knew. "I'll get them."

Ryou turned to the window as the door opened and closed again, raising a hand self-consciously to his bandaged face. He hadn't seen himself in a mirror since his awakening, so his appearance was a mystery in and of itself, and he wondered briefly what the Mizuharas would see when they opened the door. He wondered, should he turn on the light? He only kept it dim because the light had hurt his eyes when he'd opened them the first time. Janet's penlight had stopped bothering him a week ago, so maybe…

Reaching for the bedside remote, it was with only minute hesitation that he clicked the light on. He winced, slitting his eyes and staring away from the light until the pain subsided, then opened his one good eye and looked around, seeing his hospital room anew.

Janet returned a moment later, a tall man with brown hair and smiling brown eyes behind her, followed by a teenager in a green and yellow t-shirt and orange pants, an orange shirt tied around his waist, longish blonde hair falling into a kind round face but doing nothing to obscure friendly blue eyes. Janet blinked at the unexpected brightness in the room and glanced up at the light, before grinning at her patient.

"Are your eyes bothering you?" Janet asked, abandoning her guests for a moment to go to Ryou's bedside. For once, she wasn't quick to snap out her penlight, instead turning the boy's face to her and scrutinizing his visible eye critically.

"Not really," he assured her. "I thought that it might have been too dark in here for Mr. Mizuhara, that's all. The light hurt for a bit but I'm used to it now, I think."

The doctor released him and turned back to the father and son standing by the door. "Mr. Mizuhara, Max, this is Ryou. Ryou, Mr. Mizuhara and his son Max. I'll leave you three alone to get acquainted."

Ryou stared after the departing woman, feeling a bit lost without her to act as a buffer. Seeming not to notice his discomfort, Max bounced onto his bed, taking great care not to land on Ryou's still-burned legs. "It's nice to meet you!" the blonde grinned, swinging his legs off the bed. "We've been waiting for a week to meet you! Dad knows Janet from when he worked in America, and after the accident we've been hoping to help out somehow. I'm glad we can help you!"

Mr. Mizuhara shook his head fondly at his son's actions. "Don't scare him! Janet told us that he's not used to people, remember?" He looked at Ryou, a kind smile gracing his features. "I'm sorry if my son is making you uncomfortable, but we're really quite eager to help you."

"He's fine," Ryou assured the elder, unconsciously turning his face away from them so that all they could see was a hint of bandages and a single violet eye. "What did Janet tell you about me?"

"She said that you couldn't remember who you were," Max said, his cheerful demeanor sobering somewhat. "She also said that you're still badly injured, so you won't be coming home with us for a few more weeks. That won't stop me from coming to visit, though!"

Mr. Mizuhara laughed. "Be careful, Ryou! The last time one of his friends was in the hospital, the staff had to kick him out when visiting hours were over. You may not get a good night's rest!"

Ryou smiled slightly. "As long as he's not offended if I'm not so friendly."

A week after Ryou was introduced to the Mizuharas, Janet brought another family for him to meet. Takao Kinomiya was a boisterous young man with laughing brown eyes and odd blue hair held back from his face by his blue and red baseball cap, quite distinctive in his yellow shirt, red jacket, and jeans, and despite his reservations, Ryou found himself liking the younger teen almost immediately. Grandpa Kinomiya was an elderly man, his grey hair and slight figure misleading as to his frailty. Ryou winced himself when Grandpa snatched a practice sword from seemingly nowhere and chased a laughing Takao around his room, the now ever-present Max giggling at them from his refuge on Ryou's bed.

"Are they always like this?" the bedridden teen asked Max behind his hand.

Max waved his hand in a so-so manner. "It depends on how often Takao forgoes his martial arts training, but it's not an uncommon occurrence. Me and Rei have learned when to duck."

Ryou had also met Rei Kon and Kai Hiwatari, Max having dragging them along on his daily visits during the week. Rei was a friendly young man, long black hair restrained by a cloth wrap from his neck all the way to the tip. Ryou had been surprised by his golden yellow eyes the first time he'd seen them, but he also had a similar reaction from others to his own violet eyes, so unusual but getting more common, or so Janet had said. She'd then went on about genetic dominance and the violet-eyed gene getting more common in the mainstream population, and Ryou had tuned her out with his usual indifferent demeanor before she confused him any further. Kai was a tall teen with dual-toned grey hair and imposing red eyes, dressed in blues with only a long white scarf and blue markings on his face adding any color to his figure. He'd made Ryou nervous at first, but the fear had quickly evaporated when Max dumped Ryou's ice water on the other teen's head and had been unharmed. In fact, Max confided with Ryou a few days later that Kai had been amused by the act.

Even Cassie had stopped by a few times with Janet, her Japanese not very good but her presence alone enough to cheer up the injured teen. The brunette girl somehow was able to get across her meaning despite her lack of words, and with Max there to act as a translator he found her to be a mature teenager with unusual views on the world. All Janet would say when he asked about her was that she was from Toronto, which made him even more interested.

With every visit from Max, he found it harder to pass his fear and insecurity off as indifference, though, and Max would often keep bothering him until he gave some answer to whatever minor question he had been asked. It was also harder to pretend he wasn't listening without the cumbersome bandage covering his entire head. Janet had removed it a few days after Max's first visit, uncovering his still-unseeing left eye and leaving only a small bandage covering the gash along his left cheek. The optometrist Janet consulted with was still optimistic about Ryou's eye recovering fully, but admitted it might take surgery if it didn't recover on its own in a few months. Janet had also taken the liberty of arranging a visit from a dentist, who looked over the remains of broken teeth in the teen's mouth and made an appointment to fix them after his release date.

With his days no longer dark and lonely, it wasn't a surprise that Ryou's discharge date came so quickly from his point of view. He was going to stay with the Mizuhara family, as he thought it would be far tamer than Takao's household, and he wasn't sure how he'd take being chased by a crazy old man with a practice sword.

"It's sort of sad to have you leave," Janet commented, holding out a white dress shirt for him to get into. "I'll miss having you here."

Ryou, already in a pair of khaki pants, slipped his arms into the shirt timidly, mindful of anything that might disturb the bandages on his back. His burns were mostly healed, with just a few patches on his back and arms that still required bandages, but it was the large gash on his back that had Janet still worried. She'd made him promise to have Mr. Mizuhara look at it every day before she'd sent off the discharge papers, and Max had shown up a half an hour ago with the clothes he was now changing into.

"It's all I've known," Ryou admitted. "I'm not sure what to look forward to out there, but I'll miss it in here." He fumbled a bit with the buttons on the dress shirt but managed to get them done up, before sitting back on the bed and taking the socks Janet handed to him next. "I'll also miss you, Doctor Frasier. You were very supportive this whole time, and I appreciate everything you've done for me."

Janet handed him a pair of sneakers next, which he put on, struggling a bit with the laces. "Here's my address," she said, offering a business card. He took it and eyed the foreign names, wondering where Colorado Springs was and making a note to find a map. "With you being discharged, I'm needed back in America, so I guess this is goodbye."

"Air Force?" Ryou wondered, tracing the insignia with one finger. "You don't strike me as a military type."

"Sorry to disappoint," she replied lightly. "Don't forget to write me, okay? Max can help you with the English if you need it, I can't read Japanese to save my life." She offered her hand with a sheepish smile.

Ryou took it, grinning. "I'll remember that."

"Oh, just don't call my work number unless it's an emergency, okay?" Janet suddenly went from sheepish to stern. "The Air Force really doesn't like people chatting on their time, and it'd be really awkward for me."

"Yes, Doctor Frasier." He surprised her by giving her a hug, which she returned while being ever-mindful of the bandages across his back. "Have a safe flight, and tell Cassie goodbye for me, okay?"

A knock on the door startled them, preventing Janet from replying. Instead, Ryou stepped away, straightening his sleeves self-consciously as he called, "Come in!"

Max poked his head into the room. "Hey Ryou! Dad's just about finished with all that paperwork, so it shouldn't be too long before we get to go! Do you have everything?"

"I do," Ryou answered, then turned back to Doctor Frasier and bowed deeply. "Thank you for everything."

"Take care, Ryou. Try not to have me come back here, huh?" She winked at him, then laughed with him and made a shooing motion with her hands.

"I won't!" Ryou called over his shoulder as he left, Max just in front of him. He got several odd looks as he passed, ranging from simple curiosity to downright surprise. Most of the doctors that they passed he had, in his first few days of confused awareness, fought against and refused treatment from because he'd been afraid, and now they looked at him with expressions he couldn't place. Now he held his head down, walking past them without a word, not really knowing how he should begin to apologize for his behavior. He toyed with his sleeves, seeing the scars that stretched out over his hands, continuing down out of sight onto his arms. His body was riddled with the scars, he knew, and Janet had told him that they may fade, but he'd always have them now.

He nearly ran into Max when the other stopped suddenly, and he looked up to find that they'd passed into a waiting room, where Mr. Mizuhara was waiting for them. "Are we ready to go?" the man asked, looking Ryou over critically. "They fit! I'm glad."

"I'm ready to go," the teen answered, flushing a bit. "Thank you for the clothes."

"Not a problem," Mr. Mizuhara said dismissively. "We'll be buying you a lot more than clothes later on! For now, all the papers are in order, so we can leave anytime. I'll bet you're done being in hospitals, huh?"

Ryou shrugged. "I'm looking forward to seeing what's out there, but it's a bit scary too," he confessed.

"Don't worry!" Max assured him, his grin so infectious it drew a smile from the other teen. "Everything'll be okay. Let's go!"

. . . . . . .

Ryou looked at their shopping cart as they made their way to the registers, eyes wide. "This is too much, Mr. Mizuhara!" he protested, even as Max started loading clothes, shoes, and other essentials onto the conveyor belt. The cashier looked at them oddly but dutifully started ringing up the pile.

"It's just clothes and toiletries," Mr. Mizuhara assured him. "It's not too much, really. Max has more than this!"

"And he constantly reminds me about it," Max interjected. At Ryou's stricken look he laughed. "Just kidding!"

Ryou hung his head. "I appreciate this, but I'm sorry you have to do this just for me."

"I had to buy Max some stuff too, so don't worry about it." Mr. Mizuhara handed the cashier a check card, then signed his named where he was told. Ryou, seeing that his arguing wasn't doing any good, turned instead to help Max load the shopping cart again with their bags. Mr. Mizuhara took his card back and followed the two boys out of the store, where their rental car waited to be occupied again. They were driving a rental because, given how Ryou had ended up in the hospital in the first place, they didn't think he'd want to take the train again, something the teen was very grateful for. Even without remembering the actual crash, the idea of riding a train again, knowing what it had done to him, was more than a little disconcerting.

The drive was a silent one, Ryou too overwhelmed by the Mizuharas' kindness to do much more than be grateful and wonder how he was going to repay their kindness. As they turned down a street, Max's voice suddenly broke the silence.

"Hey, Dad, you mind if we go to Takao's house? It's not far from here, and we'll definitely be back before it gets too late!" He bounced in his seat, twisting around to grin at Ryou. "Takao said that everyone was going to be training today, and I don't think he'd mind if Ryou came with!"

"I don't mind if you go," Mr. Mizuhara said, pulling over to the side of the road. "But don't you think you should ask Ryou if he wants to go, too? He just got out of the hospital, I wouldn't be surprised if he just wanted to get home and rest."

Ryou considered it for only a moment before unbuckling his seat belt. "I'll go with Max. I've rested enough for the past two months!"

Mr. Mizuhara grinned. "Just be careful! Don't do anything too strenuous, and be mindful of your back! And try to be home early tonight, you still have these packages to put away."

"Yes, Mr. Mizuhara." Ryou and Max got out of the car and, after waving farewell to Mr. Mizuhara, set off down the street, the blonde teen leading the way. Ryou lingered behind him, looking around interestedly at everything he could see through his good eye. Janet had recommended that he wear an eyepatch a few days ago, but he wondered, how was he supposed to know when his eye started getting better if he wasn't trying to use it?

The sights and smells of the city were completely different from the hospital, he was very pleased to notice, a contented smile settling on his face. The sun was warm on his face, different scents drifting to him on the breeze. He could smell someone cooking a few houses away, and the smell of cut grass was sharp as he passed someone hard at work over a lawnmower. Max was talking to him as they walked, but he wasn't paying attention, as caught up as he was in the simple thing that was the outside.

Max stopped suddenly, nearly causing Ryou to run into him. "We're here!" he announced. "Takao's house!"

Ryou looked over the old-style dojo, from which he could hear boys shouting and what sounded liked metal clashing. "Sounds like someone's home."

"That would be Takao, Rei, Kai, and probably Kyouju," Max agreed, pushing open the gate leading to the front courtyard without bothering to knock first. The injured teen followed him, looking curiously around the well-kept grounds even as he followed Max around the side of the house. He soon saw several teens gathered around two spinning tops, realizing after a moment that the tops were the source of the clanging he'd heard.

"Hey guys!" Max called, jogging ahead of Ryou to catch up to the other teens, whom the other found to be, sure enough, Takao, Rei, Kai, and a fourth boy he didn't know the name of, happily typing away at his computer. "Look who I brought!"

Everyone looked up at him, then past him, seeing Ryou making his way steadily towards them. He didn't want to admit it, but after being bedridden for most of two months, his body wasn't happy with all of the activity, but he grit his teeth determinedly and pressed forward, reaching his goal with a barely perceptible sigh of relief.

"It's good to see you up!" Takao exclaimed, holding out one hand absently. To Ryou's surprise, one of the spinning tops on the ground sped towards him and leapt into his waiting palm. "Max said you were being released today, but I didn't expect you to come here! How're you feeling?"

"A bit tired," he admitted, sinking down to the ground and leaning gingerly against a rock next to the boy with the laptop. "We went shopping, but Max wanted to come see you guys."

"Don't overexert yourself," Rei warned, mirroring Takao's actions. The other top obediently jumped into his waiting hand.

"I won't. So what were you guys doing?" he asked curiously. "Is this that beyblading thing you were talking about in the hospital?"

"Yeap!" the boy next to him grinned. "Nice to meet you, by the way. I'm Kyouju! Sorry I didn't come to visit you in the hospital, but I was busy updating these guys' beyblades. The world championship is still a few months away, but you can never practice too hard!"

"Ryou," the other teen introduced. "You all told me about beyblading, but I've never seen a match."

"You want to?" Takao asked, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Kyouju just updated our blades and we were testing them out."

"Sure!" Ryou nodded enthusiastically. "I think I remember the rules you guys told me, so I think I can follow the match."

"All right!" Takao grinned, looking at his companions thoughtfully. "Me and Rei just finished a battle, so why don't you and Kai go, Max? He hasn't had a chance to test out his improvements."

Max obligingly pulled out his beyblade and launcher, threading the ripcord into the gun-like mechanism and attaching the beyblade to the bottom of the launcher. Kai was doing the same, his red and blue beyblade and launcher a direct contrast to Max's green, and the two of them as one took their stances.

"Three, two, one, let it rip!" they cried, pulling the ripcords in unison. Their beyblades shot from the launchers, thumping to the ground and immediately zooming towards each other.

"So if I remember correctly," Ryou said conversationally to the teen next to him, Kyouju typing busily away at his laptop, "the goal of this game is to get one of the other beyblades to stop spinning, right?"

Kyouju nodded. "Usually it's either knock the blade out or stop it from spinning, but without a stadium it's hard to mark an out of bounds area."

Ryou watched the spinning beyblades, enthralled. Max's green blade held its ground as Kai's circled it, occasionally darting forward, as if to test the blonde's defenses, but each time Max met him head on, a squeal of metal echoing around the yard. Max looked decidedly smug, Kai's own expression impassive as the match wore on.

"It looks like Max uses a defensive style," Ryou mused, "while Kai prefers direct, piercing attacks. Does the style of play usually determine the winner?"

"Not really," Kyouju shrugged. "Max and Kai are about equal when it comes to how often they've won. It's just a matter of skill and luck, and having a good blade. In this case, it's good to have info on our opponents, because we can get a good idea of their abilities."

"Max mentioned something about 'bit beasts'," Ryou wondered. "What're those?"

"As far as we can tell, they're ancient spirits that live in objects like our beyblades. Takao's bit beast used to possess his family's sword, while Rei's was passed down through his village. I'm not sure how many there are, but we've faced more than our fair share of them in tournaments." It was hard to tell with Kyouju's hair obscured by his face, but Ryou thought the other teen glanced at him. "Have you thought about taking up beyblading?"

The injured teen shrugged, running a hand through his extremely short black hair. He wished it would grow faster so he could hide some of the scars on his neck, but there was nothing he could do to speed up the process. "The way everyone talks about it, it seems like it's worth a decent try."

Kyouju grinned. "I was sort've hoping you'd say that!" Abandoning his computer to Ryou's care, he dashed across the yard, taking care to avoid the still-battling pair, and dug into a bag hidden nearly out of sight under the raised porch of the house. With his prize in hand, he returned to the raven-haired teen's side, holding out a blue launcher, ripcord, and nondescript grey beyblade. Ryou took all three, studying them while Kyouju took back his laptop. "I built that for you, since the way Max talked about you it seemed like you might want to try it. I didn't do anything too fancy to it, since I don't know what sort of style you'd have, so it's just a basic beyblade, balanced in attack, defense, and speed. Once you've had a bit of practice we can start customizing this to better suit you."

Ryou nodded, pulling experimentally on the ripcord to see how it felt. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet! If you're going to beyblade, you need to practice!" Kyouju grinned at him. "Let's set you up with some basic exercises so you can get a feel for your blade."

That was how Ryou found himself several hours later, out of the way of the practice battles between Rei, Takao, Max, and Kai, launching his blade over and over again onto different targets marked with Xs. It had been harder than he'd thought it would be just to aim his blade properly, but at long last he got it, grinning triumphantly while his beyblade spun squarely in the junction of the X farthest away from him. Max popped up next to him, as one of the more experienced beybladers had been doing periodically, and grinned as well.

"Congratulations!" the blond beamed, peering critically at the still-spinning blade.

"Thanks," Ryou said, mimicking the others by holding out his hand. His beyblade zoomed right over to him and gave a funny little hop that nevertheless landed it right in his outstretched palm."I think I'm ready to move on. What's next?"

"We're going home," Max informed him. "It's late, and I told Dad we'd be home early tonight, remember?"

Surprised, the raven-haired teen glanced up at the sky and found that the sun was, indeed, going down. He'd been so focused on his task that he hadn't noticed time passing, but he now realized that his muscles were protesting at him as well. The simple act of launching a beyblade, he'd found, was just as strenuous as any sort of exercise. "I remember."

"I called Dad to pick us up, since it's a long walk from here, so he should be here any minute. He said he wasn't going to return the rental car until tomorrow in case we needed something else."

"Until then, would you like to come in?" Takao put in, appearing unexpectedly on his other side. "No sense in waiting out here."

Ryou looked around, noticing the absence of Rei, Kai, and Kyouju. "Where'd the others go?"

"Home. They left a few minutes ago." Takao led them into the house, reminding Ryou to take off his shoes at the entrance, and offered to get them something to drink. Ryou only wanted a glass of water, and settled back to watch Takao and Max talk. They discussed everything from the weather to an upcoming beyblading tournament, and debated whether or not to attend this tournament. The novice beyblader was surprised to hear that he was currently training with the three-time world beyblading champions, but they didn't boast about it to him. Instead, it was merely a fact in their conversation, as they wondered whether to let the other teams have a chance in the tournament.

Ten minutes passed like this until Mr. Mizuhara poked his head into Takao's room to let Max and Ryou know it was time to go. They bid farewell to Takao and promised to stop by again tomorrow, then followed the elder man out to the car.


	3. Chapter 2

Warnings are the same as in the prologue, as is the disclaimer.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Ryou soon found himself drawn into a sort of schedule. He'd wake up in the morning, eat breakfast, help out Mr. Mizuhara in the game shop for a few hours, then spend the afternoons at Takao's practicing beyblading. A few days after his release from the hospital he'd also been to the dentist, who replaced all of his broken teeth, leaving him with a full smile. He worked closely with Kyouju, following the shorter teen's training regimen as he slowly built up his skills and confidence with a beyblade. The computer expert helped him customize his beyblade, adding heavier defenses and moderate attack to suit Ryou's style of waiting for the right moment to strike. This left Ryou with a strongly defensive blade without much speed, but that suited the teen just fine.

Just like that a month passed, and Ryou continued what little healing there was left for him. By the end of the month his hair had grown out just a little longer and his remaining wounds vanished, leaving scarred but whole skin. Because of his scars, which made him so uncomfortable to see on himself, he took to wearing black cargo pants, a violet long-sleeved turtleneck, and a black vest with just a hint of violet in the cuffs and neck, along with black gloves that he tucked the sleeves of his shirt into. This ensured that the majority of his scars were hidden from casual view, making him feel just a little bit more normal.

It was during one training session, Ryou practicing maneuvering around obstacles with Rei's Driger beyblade serving as an additional challenge, that Kyouju ran in with flyers in one hand, laptop as ever tucked under the other. Everyone's attention was distracted from their tasks, Driger sending Ryou's blade flying into the wall along with Takao's Dragoon beyblade. Kai bent over and calmly retrieved his Dranzer beyblade, before turning to see what Kyouju had to say.

"What's up, Chief?" Takao asked, seemingly unbothered by his impromptu loss.

"You know that tournament coming up next week?" Kyouju panted. He'd evidently run from wherever it was that he'd come from.

"I heard about it," Takao confirmed. "I was wondering if we should enter."

"It's not a team tournament!" Kyouju grinned. "It's like the world championship qualifications way back when, you remember? When Mr. Daitenji first made you guys the Bladebreakers? It's one on one battles!"

Ryou, in the middle of prying his beyblade out of Takao's wall, turned to Kyouju interestedly. "That means that you couldn't enter as the Bladebreakers, right?"

"Nope!" Kyouju grinned. "I brought all of the information in case any of you wanted to enter."

As the other members of the team crowded around Kyouju to discuss the details of the tournament, Ryou accepted a flyer and perused it thoughtfully. It said basically what Kyouju had told them. In a week's time there would be a singles tournament at a local arena, and all participants were welcome. Sign up was the morning of the tournament starting early in the morning until a half an hour before the tournament started.

Decision made, he folded the flyer up, put it in one of his pockets, then yanked his beyblade out of the wall and pocketed it. There wasn't much point in trying to practice with everyone else occupied with talking about the tournament, so he bid them farewell and made his way back home.

"You're home early," Mr. Mizuhara greeted, handing a customer back his change at the same time. "Practice end early?"

"Max and everyone started talking about the coming tournament," the teen answered. "They were wondering whether or not to join since it's a singles tournament."

"They're the world champions," Mr. Mizuhara nodded. "But that's because they worked as a team, not individually. It may be a good experience for them." Lacking any other customers to help, he abandoned the counter and began straightening up in the store proper. "Are you thinking of joining?"

Ryou nodded, moving to help Mr. Mizuhara. "I haven't been beyblading very long, but it seems like a good opportunity to see how good I really am."

"You're right," Mr. Mizuhara agreed. "The tournament's going to be televised, you know. Are you okay with that?"

That caused the teen to stop and think. He was still uncomfortable around strangers, and it had taken him a moment to convince himself that battling in front of a whole stadium was a good idea and wouldn't backfire on him. But to put himself on national television…?

"I think," he said slowly, resuming his task of straightening the shelves, "that if Max were there, I could deal with it." The younger teen was a steady stream of support when Ryou found himself faltering, whether it was because of his decreased vision or his lack of memory, and he knew that Max would help him if he needed it.

"Let's just hope Max decides to compete," Mr. Mizuhara grinned. Ryou returned the smile hesitantly.

. . . . . . .

The week before the tournament passed far too quickly for Ryou's peace of mind. He spent as much time as he could practicing with Max, as well as the other Bladebreakers, though they were training as well. Out of the four of them, only Takao and Max were going to enter the tournament, Rei and Kai deciding that it'd be better for them to continue training as they normally did. Ryou learned that they'd had a fifth teammate, Daichi Sumeragi, but after the last world championship tournament he'd returned to his hometown to help his father.

Before Ryou was ready the day of the tournament arrived. He rode with Max on his bike to the stadium, perched precariously behind the blonde, and tried to soothe the knot in his stomach. Max was talking to him, but he wasn't focusing on the words. Perhaps this tournament wasn't such a good idea… His mind kept bringing up scenarios, everything that could go wrong with this. It wasn't until Max stopped in front of the arena and shook him slightly that he realized that he was trembling from nerves.

"Are you okay?" the blonde asked, placing a hand on the black-haired teen's shoulder. Ryou flinched at the unaccustomed touch and Max snatched his hand back with a murmured apology.

"I don't know if I can do this," Ryou admitted. "I don't like the idea of so many people seeing me."

"Don't worry about them!" Max said confidently. "Once you get into a battle all you need to focus on is your beyblade and your opponent. Pretend you're back in Takao's yard, just me and Takao and the others watching you. It won't seem so bad then!"

Ryou took a deep breath, then released it slowly. "I hope so."

Max grinned. "Then let's go!"

Ryou spent the whole of the registration process trying to calm his nerves. He reminded himself that it was just a tournament, that he wasn't going to make a fool out of himself, and every other thing that was going through his mind. He was following Max around without really paying attention, nearly running over Max when the blonde stopped in the hallway leading to the locker room.

"Is that…?" Max murmured, peering through the crowd of excited children, teens, and even adults. Ryou craned his neck to see around the other teen and was unable to discern a single face from the crowd. "It can't be!"

"Who is it?" Ryou asked, but he nearly lost Max to the crowd when the blonde dashed forward, weaving through people like it was second nature. It took every effort that the raven-haired teen had to keep Max in sight and not run into anyone. He felt his nerves returning in full force as he thought of being left alone in a sea of strangers, but it was to his relief when he caught back up with his adopted brother. Max had come to a stop firmly attached to a green-haired teen, pleased laughter echoing across the halls and drawing the attention of passers-by in the hallway.

"Zeo!" Max exclaimed gleefully, clinging to his victim. "We haven't seen you in ages! How've you been? I was worried about you after your battle with Takao."

"Breathe," Zeo gasped, tugging feebly at Max's arm around his neck. The blonde hopped away immediately, looking sheepish.

"Sorry. But how are you?" Max grinned. "Your hair's shorter!"

The other teen rubbed his shoulder-length hair self consciously, green eyes sparkling oddly in the light. "I'm fine. Dad repaired me after the battle, but I felt guilty for putting you guys through so much crap."

"Repaired?" Ryou echoed, studying the newcomer anew.

"Yeah." Zeo looked away. "I'm an android."

That caused Ryou to blink a few times. "Oh."

"Where were you last tournament, though?" Max asked. "I was wondering."

"Dad was trying to figure out how to make me more human," Zeo answered. "He figured out some pretty nifty stuff too. I can eat and breathe and everything! He just haven't figured out how to make me age yet." He shrugged. "It's no big deal. It's been a while since I've beybladed, so I decided to join this tournament!"

Ryou, still stuck on the android revelation, could only ask, "You're beyblading today?"

"Yup! Of course the officials know about me being an android, it's kind of hard to hide when your arm gets a big hole with wires popping out during a match," and Zeo winced in memory, "but they figured that as long as I don't have an unfair advantage like remote control of my beyblade or anything, I could compete." He shrugged.

Max caught Ryou's dumbfounded stare and grinned. "Hey, Ryou, you okay? You look like something's bothering you."

Ryou noticed the green-haired teen's wince and shook himself out of his shock. "Sorry, Zeo. It's just a bit of a shock, meeting a real android. I hadn't realized there were any."

"That's okay, I'm actually sort of used to that reaction. Usually people insist on proof, and don't seem to understand that I can feel pain too." Zeo grinned. "I don't think we were properly introduced. I'm Zeo Zagart." He offered his hand.

"Ryou Mizuhara." It was only with a bit of hesitation that he took Zeo's hand, noting it felt no different than anyone else's. "I'm Max's adopted brother."

Zeo's eyebrows shot up. "Really? I expect I'm in for a tale!"

"Let's find the locker rooms and settle in," Max suggested, looking around. The crowds had thinned out a bit, an announcement reminding everyone that there was just a half an hour until registration ended. "We still have an hour before they announce the first round, so we have time to get caught up."

. . . . . . .

Takao joined them bare minutes before the registration limit, greeting Zeo warmly despite the teen's misgivings. Ryou found himself listening to their conversation more than participating, his nerves returning without anything to distract them. It seemed only minutes later when the screens in the locker room lit up with the tournament standings, stopping all conversation. This meant that the announcement a minute later echoed clearly through the rooms.

"All beybladers in Block A, please report to the beystadium at this time. All beybladers in Block A…"

Ryou glanced up at the screens, suppressing a shudder as he saw his name among those listed under Block A. "I guess I'd better go," he murmured, not trusting his voice any louder than that. He wondered if it was possible to throw up from nerves…

"You'll be fine!" Max assured him. "Remember what I said. Pretend this is Takao's yard, and you're just beyblading in front of us!"

Ryou managed a weak smile. "Thanks."

Beyblade clenched in his hand, he took a deep breath and resolutely followed the group of people laughing their way into the large stadium. There, tournament officials were calling out names and directing the crowd into pairs around the large number of beystadiums peppered around the massive area. Ryou followed the sound of his name to a stadium almost in the center of the floor, reminding himself that it was just a beybattle, and it wasn't a matter of life or death. He came face to face with a teen without realizing it, a boy with dark brown hair and cocky brown eyes, dressed casually in tattered jeans and a worn t-shirt. Next to him was a harried-looking man in a tournament t-shirt.

"Ryou Mizuhara? This is your opponent, Nick Kurosaki. You both will be in the first round. Take your positions on opposite sides of the beystadium and wait for the countdown. It shouldn't be more than a few minutes until you can battle." The official looked between them, waiting for some sort of protest, then rushed off to find the next pair. Ryou and Nick traded glances before doing as they were instructed, both of them checking their beyblades over one last time before setting up their launchers and waiting for the signal.

"Welcome to the first round of today's tournament!" the announced declared, sending the crowd into applause and cheers. Ryou glanced up at the sudden source of the noise and wished he hadn't. There were so many people up there! All eyes were on the stadium floor, where the pairs had finally finished gathering around the stadiums and were waiting for the call to start. "All of the participants have arrived to test their skills against competition of all kinds, including two world-champion beybladers! The winner today will receive a gift certificate for the best beyblading store in the city!"

There was another cheer this time, from the stadium floor. Ryou didn't join in since that wasn't why he'd joined, instead watching the crowd. The sight of all those people made him just a bit sick to his stomach. Why had he joined anyway?"

"Without further ado, let's get this tournament underway! Block A participants, are you ready?"

Another cheer from the floor, and this time Ryou joined in. The sooner the battles started, the sooner they'd be over with and he could go back to the safety of the locker rooms.

"Get set then! Three, two, one, let it rip!"

Ryou launched his blade, aiming for a spot close to the edge of the dish. Nick landed solidly in the center, his grey and black blade seeming to tremble in place. Ryou recognized the signs of a weak launch and cautiously edged his blade closer, waiting for Nick to make a move. The other teen eyed Ryou for a moment, seemingly waiting to see what Ryou would do, and they sat like that for a moment, focused solely on each other. For Ryou, he forgot about the other bladers, the crowd cheering like mad for no particular reason. The world shrunk down to him, Nick, and the two blades spinning in place, and he felt a calm settle upon him like he hadn't felt before.

Nick suddenly made a move, his blade darting towards Ryou's own black and violet one with a mad speed that reminded the amnesiac teen of Rei's Driger. The other blade wobbled dangerously, Ryou knowing that with a weak launch all he had to do was wait the other out, but he decided that he didn't want to wait for that to happen.

The two blades met head on, Nick's attack bouncing off of Ryou's defenses. Ryou retaliated, his heavy blade slow to pick up speed but when he connected, it was with a solid hit to the other boy's blade. The already unstable blade wobbled, dangerously close to coming to a stop, and Ryou came around again. Nick's mad attempt to move out of the way was thwarted by the blade's weakened spin.

The sound of Nick's blade thunking to the ground a few feet away was among the most satisfying things Ryou had heard. Calling his blade back to his hand, he was shocked back into normal awareness by the announcer calling his name and declaring his decisive victory. Glancing around, he saw only two of the original twenty pairs still battling, and Nick reclaiming his blade with an awed look at him.

"Nice battle," the other teen complimented. "I've never been beaten so fast!"

"That was my first real beybattle," Ryou admitted. "I've only been training for the past few weeks."

"Really?" Nick's eyes were wide. "You're kidding!"

"I'm not."

"Wow. I hope you do well in this tournament!" Nick grinned. He waved and jogged off, Ryou leaving the arena in the opposite direction. Max, Takao, and Zeo were waiting for him by the exit.

"That was cool!" Takao grinned, bouncing in place. "I didn't know you were that good!"

Ryou shrugged, turning away in embarrassment. "I didn't think I was very good. I expected to get knocked out in the first round."

"Nah. I expect you to last to the finals!" Takao grinned. "I'm in Block B, so it's my turn next. Wish me luck!"

"Good luck!" Max and Zeo chorused. Ryou spoke a bit too late, but Takao grinned anyway and jogged onto the floor.

"You didn't seem that nervous once the battle started," Max grinned at the raven-haired teen, leading the way into the stands. Zeo nodded his agreement, finding them seats near the railing so they could see Takao clearly.

"I wasn't," Ryou admitted. "Your advice helped. I didn't think about the crowds, just the battle. That's how I saw that the other guy's launch wasn't that strong."

"We saw that too," Zeo noted. "It was an easy battle. You have an interesting style, though. You didn't seem to have much speed."

"He doesn't," Max put in. "He focuses on defending and counterattacking."

"I did find that once I did build up speed I had one heck of an attack," Ryou mused. "But I don't think I'll count on that. It's too risky to use with a skilled opponent."

"I agree," Max nodded.

Their conversation was cut short by the announcer's voice, declaring the winners from Block A and the start of Block B. They soon picked Takao out of the crowd, his opponent seeming to realize that she didn't have a chance against the reigning world champion. As the announcer signaled the start of the next round the anonymous girl grit her teeth determinedly and launched, apparently set on giving it her all anyway. Ryou felt sorry for the girl when, seconds into the battle, Takao caught her blade and offered it back to her good-naturedly. She grinned as she accepted it, the announcer declaring Takao's victory for the stadium to hear.

"I'm next!" Max said, bouncing up excitedly and dashing for the stairs. This left Ryou alone with Zeo, who, sitting on Ryou's left, was trying not to stare at the scar along the amnesiac teen's cheek. Ryou glanced over at the green-haired boy, having to turn his head around completely due to his eye, who flushed guiltily and looked away.

"What is it?" Ryou sighed. He hated having people looking at him like that.

"Um… your scar. How'd you get it?" Zeo asked.

"In that train wreck three months ago," the other teen replied shortly, looking off to the stairs in the hopes that Takao would show up soon. The android winced.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"It's fine. It's the one scar I can't hide, so it's natural for people to be curious," Ryou murmured. "Max suggested that I use makeup, but that's just too…"

"Girly?" Zeo offered. He grinned. "I know what you mean. I cut my hair partly because Dad said I looked too much like a girl."

Glancing at the other teen, Ryou pictured what he'd looked like with longer green hair and saw his point. "If you don't mind me asking… Do you get a lot of grief for being an android?"

Zeo shrugged. "Outside of beyblading, not many people can tell. Usually people just think there's something wrong with my eyes, but they think that it's because of contacts or something."

"Your eyes are a bit odd," Ryou allowed, turning back to the stairs. "But that's not a bad thing."

Takao bounded up just then, looking pleased with himself. "That was easy! I passed Max on the stairs, so we should be seeing some action soon. You're in D block, right, Zeo?"

Zeo nodded. "I hope I get the chance to face you!"

Takao grinned cheekily. "Same here. I think that last match of ours was just too dramatic!"

"I promise to try not to steal Dragoon," Zeo swore solemnly. Ryou looked at him askance.

"You tried to steal Dragoon?"

The android laughed sheepishly. "Well, that's a bit of a tale…"

. . . . . . .

C and D blocks' battles went by without a hitch, and less than an hour after Ryou's first battle he was again called to the stadium floor. Twenty beystadiums were still on the floor, Ryou taking his place opposite a pretty young woman who would have looked more in place at some mall in her stylish skirt, blouse, and high-heeled shoes. The other ten beystadiums were occupied by the remaining half of block B, the tournament officials apparently deciding that the best way to deal with the sheer number of participants was to weed them out as quickly as possible so that the tournament would finish on the same day. Ryou, glancing up at the cameras he could see from his new vantage point on the floor, was somewhat grateful for that. The second battle wasn't nearly as daunting as the first, but he'd rather get this over with quickly.

Unbeknownst to him, across the city, one Suguru Fujisaki was holed up in a recording room at NG studios, portable TV hooked up and dutifully displaying the Beyblading tournament to the room's occupant. His teammates didn't know it, but Suguru was a big beyblading fan, and he didn't miss any chances to see his favorite player in action.

Not that he could see Takao Kinomiya at the moment. The tournament announcer was instead focusing on the other competition, picking a few players out of the crowd to give in-depth analyses of and anticipating their progress in the tournament. It wasn't very exciting to him, because he knew Takao would win, but one player in particular caught his eye, and he dared to turn up the TV just a little bit louder.

"And there's Ryou Mizuhara! This unknown has emerged from the woodwork as the adopted brother of Bladebreaker Max Mizuhara, and his decisive victory in the first round has made him one of the players to watch out for this tournament." On the TV, Ryou glanced up at the camera, as if he knew that the announcer was talking about him, but the TV announcer was different from the one currently blasting out directions into the stadium. "Not much is known about this mysterious figure, but we'll be sure to keep an eye on him as the tournament progresses!"

Suguru studied Ryou contemplatively in the brief moment before the camera switched to focus on another player. In the last second before the switch, Ryou glanced up at the camera again, light reflecting off violet eyes…

Blinking, Suguru wished he'd thought to record it. Those eyes seemed hauntingly familiar…

"Shuichi," he sighed, looking for a glimpse of the teen in the crowd. "He has Shuichi's eyes."

He missed his bandmate terribly, it was true, but three months after the fact even Hiroshi had admitted that it was unlikely for Shuichi to have survived the train and gone unnoticed for so long. As much as any of them hated to do so, Shuichi's family had begun to arrange for a funeral.

Seeing Ryou, with Shuichi's same unusual eye color, Suguru convinced himself that his mind was making up tricks to try and ease his grief. Shuichi was…

A knock on the door surprised him, his hand darting out to shut off the TV. Flushing guiltily, he stood as K entered the room, the tall, blonde ex-something (Suguru couldn't figure out if K was really former military or just plain crazy) casually not pointing his rifle in the teen's direction.

"Found you! Now, shouldn't you be with Hiro setting up for your next song? Ryuichi will be awfully disappointed if he finds out you've been hiding from him."

"I'm glad Ryuichi is singing for us," Suguru said hastily, abandoning his TV and rushing into the hallway. K was scary!


	4. Chapter 3

Warnings and Disclaimer are in the prologue.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Ryou won his next battle with almost frightening ease. His opponent, the prissy girl, attacked without thinking, trying to overwhelm him with sheer force, which his beyblade withstood unflinchingly. It had been a simple matter of turning her own strength against her. She glared irritably at him after the match, then flipped her hair over her shoulder and stormed out in a huff. Nonplussed, Ryou looked around for Takao and saw the other beyblader knock his opponent out of the stadium. He'd actually defeated his opponent faster than the world champion, he was surprised and embarrassed to note.

After that, he and Takao retreated to the stands while Max and Zeo took on their opponents. Not surprisingly, they were shortly rejoining them while the rest of the battles took a bit longer. However, once Blocks C and D finished, there were only 40 contestants left only two hours after the tournament's start. In order to get them down to a manageable level, all forty contestants were called to the floor, the twenty beybstadiums occupied once more as the remnants from the four blocks battled it out to see who would move on.

Ryou, in the middle of his battle against a tall older man with graying hair but a fast beyblade, nearly lost when he mistook a shadow on the dish for the speedy beyblade. He shook his head to clear it, then went on to win when the other man grew overconfident and left himself open to attack. As he was ascending to the stands to join Takao and Zeo, he rubbed his left eye. All of today's stress was causing it to bother him, though it still, stubbornly, remained dark on that half of his peripheral vision.

"You okay, Ryou?" Takao asked, not missing his discomfort.

"My eye's bothering me," he confessed. "I'll be fine, though. I'll just rest my eyes until the next battle." He settled into his seat and leaned his head back, letting his eyes fall closed.

"What's wrong with your eye?" Zeo wondered.

"He can't see out of his left one," Takao explained. "It hasn't been bothering him until now."

"Do you have that eyepatch Doctor Frasier gave you?" Max's voice suddenly asked, alerting Ryou to his presence. "That might help."

"No," Ryou admitted. "I didn't think I'd need to use it."

"They've announced a break while they set up the next part of the tournament," Max mused. "I'll be back!"

Ryou cracked open his good eye to see Max bounding down the stairs. "Where's he going?"

"No idea," Takao said dryly. "I hope he doesn't go too far, though. It'd be a shame if he got disqualified for not showing up at his next battle!"

In the half an hour break, Ryou observed the stadium floor undergo a drastic change. The twenty beystadiums were removed, a larger stadium taking their place in the middle of the floor. After the stadium was changed, the tournament draw was displayed, and it became a matter of finding out where you were and who your opponent was.

"Look, Ryou!" Takao bounced, pointing at the large screen. "You're fighting Zeo next!"

Surprised, Ryou found his portrait on the screen, a picture taken during registration. Sure enough, there was Zeo's face next to his.

"Cool!" Zeo exclaimed, turning to Ryou with a grin on his face. "I can't wait!"

Ryou gave a small smile. "Neither can I."

That was how he found himself on the stadium floor ten minutes and two beybattles later, facing Zeo across the beyblade dish. The green-haired teen grinned encouragingly at him, taking his stance, beyblade held before him. Ryou followed suit.

"Three! Two! One!" the announcer recited, the crowd repeating him. "Let it rip!"

Ryou launched, aiming for the center of the stadium, the best place to attack or defend from. Zeo's yellow Burning Cerberus beyblade thunked down solidly next to him, immediately crashing into his blade and sending it back a few feet. Ryou winced at the attack. Such power!

Zeo's attacks were ruthless, he found, holding his ground and letting the other batter him. His defenses held up, but barely, and he didn't have any attention to spare for attacking.

"You're doing pretty good!" Zeo grinned, suddenly a whole different person. When they'd been in the stands he'd been a bit quiet and reserved, but now he seemed totally alive, energy suffusing his entire being. Ryou was surprised at the change in his new friend, but didn't have a chance to dwell on it. "I may have to step up my game a bit!" He swept his arms out to his side, as if inviting Ryou in to attack him. "Come on!"

Takao, hothead that he was, may have taken the bait, but Ryou stood his ground, knowing his strength was in defending and waiting for the right moment. Zeo waited for him for just a moment before renewing his attack, his laughter washing over the amnesiac teen. He could tell the android was enjoying himself immensely, and it was infectious.

"I guess I'll just have to step things up a bit!" Zeo leaned forward eagerly. "Come on, Cerberus!"

Ryou stayed where he was, cautiously anticipating Zeo's next move. The green-haired boy went on the attack again, the ferocity of it sending Ryou's blade reeling. The teen focused on the battle as well as he could, but he kept seeing shadows on the edge of his vision, distorting his view of the dish and making it hard to anticipate the coming attacks. He shook his head to try and dispel the shadows, but they stubbornly stayed, and he couldn't brace against Zeo's next attack. His beyblade staggered backwards, driven to the edge of the dish.

"Ryou? You okay?" Zeo asked, and suddenly he wasn't Ryou's opponent anymore, but a concerned friend.

"I don't know." The battle temporarily on hold, Ryou blinked rapidly, but the shadows stayed. Experimentally, he closed his good eye, shock coursing through him when the shadows persisted. Opening his right eye, he closed his left.

The shadows vanished.

"My eye!" he exclaimed, waving his hand in front of his left eye. He saw a vague grey shape moving in front of him, terribly distracting. "It's seeing!"

Zeo grinned at him, pumping a fist in the air. "Congratulations!"

"It's distracting," he grumped, holding his hand over his eye. He was left with his right eye, but that was his normal range of vision anyway, and he grinned at Zeo. "Shall we continue?"

Zeo grinned right back. "Let's go!"

Ryou shifted his beyblade back to the center of the dish, tensing in anticipation of Zeo's renewed assault. And it came like a rain of hammers, Zeo not sparing him anything because of his eye. Ryou was left staggering in the wake of his attacks, his beyblade wobbling dangerously but still spinning. Determinedly, he waited for Zeo's next attack, spinning out of the way at the last moment and chasing after the other blade. His blade was slow to pick up speed, which normally suited him, but Zeo outran him easily and circled back around. Ryou's blade shuddered under the attack, wobbling badly, and the stadium held its breath.

As if the world had slowed, Ryou's blade toppled, coming to a stop in the middle of the dish. Cerberus zipped around triumphantly, echoing its master's excited cry, before zipping to the edge of the dish and landing in Zeo's hand. Ryou dropped his hand from his left eye, not paying any attention to the shadows that returned to taunt him, and reached for his beyblade.

"That was a good battle, Ryou!" Zeo enthused, leaping the length of the dish to pounce happily on the amnesiac teen. With a yelp he toppled backwards, staring wide-eyed at the pair of green eyes only inches from his own. "I almost thought you'd win!"

"You're like another person," Ryou wheezed, pushing feebly at the weight on top of him. "I can't breathe."

The android jumped up and offered him a hand. "Sorry! I just… well, I guess the simplest explanation is that I'm not sure who to trust. You know, with me being what I am, so I try to stay under the radar, you know? But beyblading…" Zeo grinned. "It's hard to be reserved. It's just so exciting!"

"You were plenty reserved in your other battles," the teen noted, poking tentatively at his chest and wincing. "You're also heavy."

"Sorry."

They retreated to the stands, rejoining Takao and Max, who had returned in time to watch the battle. The blonde held out a black eyepatch.

"I saw what happened during the battle, and this might help next time," Max explained. Ryou took the eyepatch and considered his options, then went ahead and put it on. The shadows teasing him on the left side of his field of vision were distracting in or out of battle, and having something to block them out was more important than worrying about the way he looked.

Able to see clearly once again, he settled into his seat and watched the rest of the tournament. It came down to Max and Takao, and for the first time Ryou got a glimpse of their bit beasts, Dragoon and Draciel appearing in the thunderstorm of attacks that rocked the entire stadium. Takao's Dragoon was a giant dragon, blue in color with glittering scales and wicked-looking claws, while Draciel was a dark blue turtle, shell easily taking the punishment claws attempted to inflict on it. Ryou was enthralled by the beasts, watching them with wide eyes and taking in every movement they made.

Zeo laughed at his wonder. "Never seen them before?"

Ryou shook his head. "When they practice, they don't call on them. I can see why…"

The destructive power of the beasts left the beystadium in pieces, but eventually Takao emerged victorious, knocking Max's blade out of the stadium decisively. The two laughed, retrieving their blades and chattering amiably as they made their way to the stairs leading to the stands, Takao only pausing to accept the small trophy and slip of paper that were the prizes. Ryou and Zeo met them at the base of the stairs, and as a group they made their way out of the stadium.

. . . . . . .

Ryou blinked a few times to get moisture back into his eyes as the optometrist snapped off his penlight and jotted a few things in an open file. "It looks like your eye's healing just fine. Are you having any problems with it?"

"It's just a bit confusing when I don't have it covered," Ryou admitted. "The grey shapes that my eye sees, I mean. It's disorienting."

"That's to be expected, I'm afraid, and the only way that'll clear up is if you're using it," the doctor informed him. "I would just recommend the eyepatch for things like riding your bike. Otherwise, just carry the eyepatch for if your eye starts to bother you."

"Yes, Doctor." Reluctantly, Ryou slipped the eyepatch into his pocket and stood. "Thank you for seeing me today," he said with a bow, then left. As he entered the waiting room Mr. Mizuhara slipped into the exam room.

"Everything go okay?" Max asked. He had Draciel in pieces on the floor in front of him, obviously checking to make sure the beyblade was in fine shape.

"Yeah." Ryou relayed the doctor's orders. "I wish I could wear the eyepatch more often, though."

"I know what you mean," Max agreed. "It seems tough. Has Dad talked to you yet?"

The black-haired teen cocked his head. "About what?"

"School! It starts soon, and we still don't know your grade level! Dad was talking with a high school to get you tested. He hasn't told you?"

"No." Come to think of it, since coming home with the Mizuharas Ryou hadn't seen Max going to school either. "Don't you go to school?"

"Home school," Max admitted. "Dad's a bit weird like that. Most likely, once we figure out your grade level, you'll start learning with me. That'll be fun, won't it?"

Ryou shrugged. "School is school. It's not meant to be fun."

Max opened his mouth to answer but was saved from doing so by Mr. Mizuhara's return. "All set to go, boys?" the man asked cheerfully, surveying the mess Max had made of the waiting room. Swiftly and with a practiced feel to it the blonde gathered up the pieces of his green beyblade and assembled it, holding Draciel in his hands only a moment later.

"Ready, Dad!" Max chirped.

"I'm ready," Ryou said.

. . . . . . .

To everyone's surprise, Ryou tested out of school, passing a grueling exam without much preparation. It wasn't a high passing grade to be sure, and Mr. Mizuhara vowed to make sure Ryou brushed up on the subjects he'd failed in, but this meant that, while Max was stuck for a few hours every day in the living room with schoolbooks, Ryou was free to continue training. Mr. Mizuhara carried through with his promise to make Ryou study, but it wasn't as intensive as Max's work. This left Ryou free to train most of the day, and train he did.

It was one day, training in Takao's yard even though the other boy was at school, that Zeo bounced in. Outside of any large group of people the android's reserved demeanor fell away, leaving a hyper boy that nearly ran Ryou ragged trying to keep up with him. However, after the amnesiac teen's discomfort with being literally glomped at the tournament, Zeo had yet to repeat his action, something for which Ryou was immensely glad.

"Hey Ryou!" Zeo greeted, popping up just behind his shoulder and observing the black and violet blade critically. "You've gotten a lot better! I can't wait to fight you again."

Ryou called his blade back, shrugging. "I've just been practicing. Kyouju decided that my lack of speed was a bit detrimental, so he's been tinkering, trying to find some way to maintain my defensive style without crippling me so."

"Has he come up with anything?" Zeo asked, interested.

"He says that by using a lighter weight disc, I'll lose a bit of my defensive power but I'll be a bit faster. He got the idea after I went after you in our match," Ryou mused. "I couldn't catch up to you, remember?"

Zeo nodded. "That seems fair. But that means you won't be able to take those heavy beatings anymore."

"Also true." Ryou shrugged. "That just means I'll have to evade as much as I can."

"You're sneaking more into Rei's style," Zeo teased. Ryou shot him a look, then grinned.

"Think he'll be mad?"

"Nah," Zeo hufted. "Styles change throughout your career. You may find a happy medium somewhere."

"I'm not sure how I'll fare against a bit beast," Ryou admitted. "Max and Takao and them may not call on theirs very often, but I can't say the same about other opponents. The way they talk about the world championships, there are a lot of beybladers out there with bit beasts. I'm not sure if I'll be able to stand against someone like that."

"You did pretty well against me!" Zeo encouraged. "You gave Burning Cerberus a good fight!"

Ryou stared. "You have a bit beast?"

The android showed him the tiny picture on the top of his beyblade, the only indication of the three-headed dog's presence Ryou could see. "This is Cerberus. My Dad gave him to me before I fought Takao before, and it's thanks to his strength that I've been able to do so well."

Ryou sighed, shoulders slumping. "That's not very encouraging. I didn't feel like I did so well at all."

"Hey, want to come over to my place?" Zeo offered. "Takao won't be home for a few hours, and practicing by yourself doesn't seem very fun. You can meet my dad and we can practice there! How's that sound?"

The amnesiac shrugged, glancing at the bare rocks scarred from years of beyblading. "I suppose that's okay."

"Great!" Zeo grinned. "Let's go!"

. . . . . . .

Ryou felt a bit self-conscious entering such a large, spacious house as Zeo's. The android didn't seem to notice the western-style opulence, poking his head into a room and yelling that he was home with a guest while Ryou took off his shoes and left them by Zeo's and another pair near the door.

"He's in his lab working," Zeo told Ryou as the green-haired boy escorted him on a brief tour of the house. "He hardly ever comes out, really, but he never minds when I pop in. Want to see my training room?"

"Sure," the violet-eyed boy murmured, still awed at the mansion. "So big…"

Zeo laughed. "Come on, it's not that bad."

"Says you," Ryou couldn't resist commenting as he followed the other teen down into the basement. There, a giant stainless steel dish was planted in the floor of shiny silver room, Ryou surprised to see that the walls, too, were made of steel. Around the dish were tables and benches cluttered with Beyblading parts, attack rings and weight discs and ripcords scattered pell-mell everywhere, splashing color to the otherwise lifeless room. At the far end of the room was a giant rock, encased in glass like it was something important.

"What's that?" Ryou asked, pointing to the rock. Zeo shrugged, grinning at the other teen.

"Bit beasts."

The amnesiac stared at him. "That's a bit beast?"

"The rock isn't a bit beast," Zeo explained. "It has a bunch of bit beasts sealed inside it. It's where Dad got Burning Cerberus for me. There are a whole bunch of them left in there, too, but after my loss against Takao Dad just sort of forgot about it. I've been trying to find some way to let them out, but no luck so far." He waved at the stadium. "Want a practice match?"

"Sure," Ryou said, making his way to the spot marked out for the beyblader closest to him. Zeo jumped down in the dish to get to his side, climbing back out without much effort. The rock stood behind him, tantalizing now that he knew what it was. Wordlessly, Ryou pulled out his eyepatch and secured it over his left eye, then got his beyblade ready.

"Three! Two! One! Let it rip!" they chanted together, releasing their beyblades into the stadium. Landing in the center, Ryou gritted his teeth and hunkered down in preparation of the coming assault.

Even during a practice match Zeo was relentless, battering away at Ryou's defenses without pause. With his lowered defenses the black-haired teen knew he didn't have a chance if that kept on, so he focused, instead, on watching Cerberus' movements and dodging where he could, defending where he couldn't. The slight increase of speed in his blade was doing wonders for him, but it still wasn't enough to stave off Cerberus' assaults.

If this was what it was like to battle a bit beast, Ryou despaired, he knew he didn't have a chance in the world championships.

Unbeknownst to either of them, the rock behind Zeo glowed faintly, pulsing with each hit that Ryou withstood. Ryou was focused on staying in the game, and once he got Zeo's pattern of attack down he was able to get in a few attacks of his own, but those were few and far between.

"You've gotten better!" Zeo called, grinning at him. "But you still have a lot more practicing to do!"

The yellow beyblade seemed to shimmer with a black and purple hue, and Ryou was suddenly overwhelmed. It looked like Zeo's blade had split into several, though he knew it to be an illusion, but despite everything he couldn't dodge every attack, and his blade was showing signs of giving in to the pressure.

Ryou spared a moment to let himself worry, but then shook his head and focused back on the task. He wasn't about to let Zeo knock him out without a fight!

There came the sound of shattering glass and a beam of light from behind Zeo, the android yelping and throwing himself to the ground, out of harm's way. The beam resolved itself into the form of a giant spider, black body covered in violet armor peppered with muted pink shafts. It hovered over the battle, eyeing Ryou's blade, then the blader himself.

_You who are like me_, a voice echoed in his mind, _I will lend you my strength. I am Drasonet._

A hiss echoed through the room, before the beast changed again into a beam of light and entering the black and violet blade. Wide-eyed, Ryou watched his blade wobble a moment before steadying, glowing faintly with violet light.

"What was that?" the amnesiac teen gasped, holding out his hand for his blade. It obediently jumped to him, and he felt anew warmth within it, tempered by cold-blooded patience.

Zeo called Cerberus back and glanced behind him, at the rock no longer doing anything other than sitting there being a rock. "That… was a bit beast." He raced around the edge of the dish to Ryou, peering critically at the blade in his hand. "Can I see?"

Wordlessly the teen offered his blade, which Zeo took and examined critically. Eying the black and violet beyblade, the android hummed under his breath and handed it back.

"It looks like you made a new friend," Zeo grinned. "Wish we knew its name…"

"Drasonet," Ryou recalled, reclaiming his beyblade with a renewed sense of respect. "His name is Drasonet."


	5. Chapter 4

Warnings and Disclaimer are in the prologue.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Ryou impressed everyone the next time he showed up at Takao's house, Drasonet's defenses a force to be reckoned with. It took the violet-eyed teen a full month of practicing to get used to his sudden boost in power, once doing so finding that the spider bit beast matched his beyblading style perfectly. Drasonet, when summoned in battle (and Ryou had only done so a few times, usually at Kyouju's request), hunched down in place, armor-plated legs deflected all but the most determined of assaults, lashing out with what Ryou discovered to be sharp pink quills at an enemy when it was zooming away after an attack. Even without the quills, though, the spider's long legs allowed for a multiple-hit attack, though this left him horribly unbalanced for a moment afterwards.

After getting used to his new friend, Ryou set himself to practicing. He fully planned on participating in the world championships if given the chance, but he soon found that it was an idea easier said than done.

"The Bladebreakers are usually Japan's representative team?" Ryou asked one day two weeks later, when the thread of conversation turned that way.

Takao nodded. "Yeap! Usually there's a preliminary tournament, but we usually win it. Mr. Daitenji changes things up every year, though, so who knows?"

With all four spots taken on the Bladebreakers, the amnesiac teen found himself in quite the problem. It was two weeks after that conversation when, during a training match at Takao's against Max, Zeo popped into the yard unannounced. He was a frequent visitor of late, training with them more often than not.

"Hey, Ryou, have you found a team for the preliminary tournaments yet?" the android chirped, skirting the usual patch of ground that served as the makeshift stadium. Ryou, distracted, caught Drasonet absently as it was sent flying by Draciel.

"Those aren't for another, what, two and half months, right?" Ryou mused. "I haven't thought about a team… I don't have the first clue about where to find one, honestly."

"Well, I'm in need of a team, too!" Zeo declared. "What do you say? If we can find a third person, want to enter the prelims?"

"You're going to enter this year, Zeo?" Rei asked. Takao, behind him, whooped.

"I'm glad! I was looking forward to a rematch!" Takao cheered.

"If we can find a third person we will," the green-haired boy reminded them. "If we can't…"

"I'd be happy to team up with you, Zeo," Ryou said, feeling strangely ecstatic about the idea, a cheer far deeper than simply knowing he had a teammate. It was a fleeting impression, however, dispersing as soon as it had come.

"Stop by my house later, then! We can get started with all that team registration stuff that the BBA likes." Zeo jogged off, waving over his shoulder. "See you then!"

Ryou waved back, then turned to Max again. "Want to try that battle again without the interruptions?" he asked, oddly cheerful.

. . . . . . .

Two weeks after that, after many days of meeting with Zeo and tossing ideas back and forth, he and Ryou finally settled on a team name. Mere days afterwards, Team Gravity was registered with the BBA, though they wouldn't be able to participate in tournaments as a team until they found a third member. With that in mind, they got help from the Bladebreakers in organizing tryouts for the vacant spot, but beyblader after beyblader failed to meet up to their expected level of skill, and it was mere days before the preliminary tournament that Ryou began to feel the pressure.

They were at their last tryouts, five beybladers lined up to perform the series of exercises Kyouju had designed to test the skills of the applicants, and Ryou found himself uncharacteristically fidgety from nerves and hating every minute of it. Determinedly he clenched his hands in his lap, forcing himself to be still.

Zeo led the tryouts, Ryou observing from the sidelines and making notes. He wasn't Kyouju by any means, but he'd grown enough in skill to recognize who had it and who didn't. As applicants were being run through the course, more were showing up, but as Ryou logged them in he noted one despairing fact: None of them had bit beasts. This meant that, however skilled the beybladers were, they simply wouldn't have the power to match the contenders in the world championships. By Zeo's frown as he coached the bladers, the green-haired teen knew it too.

With the last applicant finished and about to leave, Ryou glanced at the door to the public stadium they'd borrowed for the tryouts, willing one last person to come through. After all their preparation, it couldn't have gone to waste…

A familiar head of blonde hair poked through the door, Max surveying the empty room and correctly interpreting their frowns. "Bad tryouts again?" he asked, coming fully into the stadium.

Zeo nodded glumly. "A few of them had promise, but not enough to improve in just three days."

"It looks like we're not going to the tournament," Ryou sighed.

Max bounced on his heels, humming thoughtfully. "Well… are you up for one more applicant?"

"I hope you brought a miracle," Zeo replied skeptically.

"I don't know about a miracle," Max said cheerfully, "but I'm sure me and Draciel can ace your tryouts no problem!"

The duo blinked at him for a few minutes, not quite processing what the blonde had said, before Zeo let loose a great cheer and tackled Max to the ground. Ryou's elation was confined to a grin on his face, his dark mood suddenly lifted.

"But I thought you were a Bladebreaker," the amnesiac teen pointed out. "Won't Takao, Rei, and Kai be disappointed?"

"They've got Kyouju as a backup," Max informed them, waving his hand dismissively. "Besides, it was Takao's idea. He really wants to face you in the tournament!"

. . . . . . .

With Team Gravity now complete and able to participate, the days leading into the tournament were a great deal easier to deal with now that there wasn't that constant worry nagging at Zeo and Ryou. They trained in earnest with Max, discussing strategies in between practice battles now that they had two primarily defensive players in their lineup. The veteran beyblader assured them that everything would be fine, and the day of the world championship preliminary tournament dawned bright.

This was only Ryou's second tournament, and his nerves were in full force once again as they entered the building and walked up to the registration desk. At least this time he wasn't alone, he mused, glancing around while Max handled their registration and got all of the information. From there it was a short walk to the locker rooms and away from the milling crowd of participants and spectators.

Ryou sank down on a bench against a wall and leaned back, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. After all this time his eye had slowly gotten better and grown stronger, ensuring that he could see color in the very blurry shapes that pervaded the left half of his vision, but as the days passed the blurs gained just a bit of clarity. His optometrist was optimistic about his rapid recovery, saying that within six months his eye should be back to its previous strength, and then they'd see if he needed glasses or not. Until then his eye was a lot less distracting than before, but the blur was just severe enough for him to retain the use of his eyepatch during matches. He didn't want the wrong blur to cost him a match.

He listened to Max and Zeo talking a short way off, something about their opposition and what to expect, and he found that listening to them was calming. With an effort he stilled his racing thoughts and just focused on the sounds of their voices.

It was like that he spent the time before the tournament's start, only opening his right eye briefly at the sound of Takao's voice. The remaining Bladebreakers had popped in to wish them luck, Rei giving them a fanged grin and Kai being his usual aloof self while Takao chatted up Max and Zeo.

After an eternity it was time for them to march out into the stadium, all of the teams lining up for the tournament's starting announcements and introductions. Ryou, Zeo, and Max had been shuffled to the front of the gathered teams and were subjected to the full impact of the announcer's amplified voice. It was a wonder that no one had gone deaf yet, Ryou mused.

"Welcome to another year, and another preliminary tournament!"DJ, the announcer, declared cheerfully. He was a handsome young man with brown hair that he kept tied back in a black bandana and keen, dark colored eyes, wearing black jeans and a leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up. "This year we've gone back to the traditional team format, which is a good thing for the Bladebreakers, eh?" He grinned cheekily at the team, then turned serious again. "The winners of this tournament will go on to represent the beybladers of Japan at the world championships! This year the Bladebreakers have their work cut out for them, with Max Mizuhara jumping ship to join the up and coming Team Gravity!"

The spotlights shone on Ryou, who stubbornly narrowed his eyes against the brightness and gave no other outward sign of pain. Next to him, Max was waving cheerily at the crowds above them and Zeo had reverted to his quietly reserved demeanor, only giving a slight, shy wave.

"There are plenty of other teams to worry about, so you'd better stay on your toes, Takao!" With a warning look in the other teen's direction, met with an illegible shout, DJ grew professional again. "For those of you who are new to the sport, the tournaments are done in a team format, a maximum of four members on each. Each match is done as best-of-three, with the teams battling three times and the winner of two moving on into the next match. This means that the team members are really counting on each other, while a loss may not necessarily mean the end of the match. So, good luck to all of our teams out there!"

From there, DJ moved onto general announcements, declaring the starting lineups and informing those unlucky in the crowds that they'd left their lights on in their vehicles. This didn't concern the beybladers so much, but the people in the crowds listened intently, just in case what the announcer said pertained to them.

In the back of the audience, Suguru Fujisaki fidgeted, glancing at the people next to him before returning his attention to the stadium floor below them. He couldn't believe his luck! Ryuichi had suggested that they take a day off from recording, and then followed Suguru to the stadium babbling about everything under the sun. Used to it by now, the keyboardist was able to tune it out for the most part, hardly able to contain his excitement as he waited for the tournament to start.

"Who's that?" Ryuichi chirped, clutching his pink bunny to his chest as he peered at another part of the line. Suguru followed his gaze.

"That's a new team this year. Zeo Zagart, Max Mizuhara, and Ryou Mizuhara," the teen explained.

"Siblings?" Ryuichi asked, cocking his head.

"Adopted siblings," Suguru recalled.

"Kumagoro wants to meet them!" the singer bounced, the pink bunny in his arms seeming to nod in agreement. "Want to come with, Suguru?" Pleading eyes were turned in his direction, and somehow Kumagoro was in his lap, mirroring the deep purple gaze fixed on him.

Suguru sighed and stood. "Let's go, then!" He'd been trying to figure out how to ask Ryuichi to come with him in search of Takao anyway. Maybe he'd get lucky and they'd find Takao before Ryou.

. . . . . .

After the opening announcements the teams retreated back to the locker rooms while the organizers got the stadium set up for the upcoming battles. The Bladebreakers and Team Gravity secured a locker room to themselves, Kyouju working overtime to maintenance both teams' beyblades in the short time before the teams would be called to battle. They were on opposite sides of the draw, making an encounter in the finals all that more likely, and Ryou was fine with that.

Sitting in the locker room alone while the rest of the beybladers went to find a concession stand, Ryou took out Drasonet and stared at the spider pictured on the top of the beyblade. "Are you ready for this, Drasonet?" the teen murmured, turning the blade over in his hands and scrutinizing it carefully, checking for any minor damages that might make him fail. So engrossed was he, he didn't notice the locker room door opening and closing, nor the near-silent footfalls that padded over to him.

It was to be expected, then, that the sight of a pink stuffed bunny appearing at the table with him nearly gave him a panic attack, though he restrained the yelp that tried to force itself out of his mouth. Scowling and trying to control his suddenly racing heart, he took a few deep breaths and stared at the offending stuffed animal.

To his surprise, it looked around, then leaned closer to Ryou, as if it were peering at him. "Kumagoro thinks you look familiar," a high-pitched but decidedly male voice declared.

"I was on TV once," Ryou informed it. "Maybe Kumagoro saw me there?"

The bunny shook its head. "I've never seen you on TV!"

Ryou shrugged. "I don't know what you mean, then."

"You've got a scar on your cheek!" Kumagoro chirped, bouncing in place and letting its ears flop around its head. "Where'd you get it? It looks like it hurt a lot…"

Wondering if Takao was playing a joke on him, Ryou humored the bunny, explaining about how he was caught in the train accident and lost his memory because of it. Kumagoro, bouncing all throughout his explanation and making dismayed noises, stilled and tilted its head curiously at the mention of his amnesia.

"So you don't know who you were seven months ago? That must be so sad! I'll bet your mother is tearing out her hair looking for you, or your boyfriend. Did you have a boyfriend? Or was it a girlfriend? Do you have one now?" Kumagoro bounced a few times more before a hand reached down and snatched the bunny from its seat.

Looking up, Ryou finally registered the presence of a green-haired boy, looking to be about his age with brown eyes and a long-suffering expression. "Ryuichi, you know that's hardly appropriate to ask someone you haven't even introduced yourself to yet."

"But Kumagoro wanted to know!" the voice complained, but another figure rose from a crouch, revealing himself to be a kind-faced man with shaggy brown hair and dancing dark purple eyes. "His eyes look similar, don't they? And he said he doesn't remember!"

The green-haired teen shot the man, Ryuichi, a hard look. "Don't go around putting random facts together. Even if Ryou was an accident victim, they would have identified him in the hospital."

The person in question was just sitting there looking lost, beyblade forgotten in his hand.

"But what if they couldn't? It was hectic you know, and we all looked and couldn't find Shuichi in the hospital, but if we couldn't recognize him, why would the doctors?" Ryuichi reached for Kumagoro, which the still-unnamed boy relinquished control of, and pressed it to his chest, eyes shining.

The other boy looked down, a vein in his forehead throbbing, and took a deep breath before turning to Ryou. "My apologies, Ryou. We lost a good friend in the same wreck you were victim to, and some of us just can't seem to accept that."

"I'm sorry for your loss," the violet-eyed teen murmured, at a loss for words.

"But Suguru!" Ryuichi protested, then turned to Ryou again. "Pika pika?"

Shiny shiny? The teen shot Ryuichi an odd look, before deadpanning, "Chu?"

Suguru gave a slight cough, though he looked slightly amused at Ryuichi's befuddled look. "Pika… chu?"

"It's called Pokemon," Ryou sighed. "Pikachu, you know? The yellow mouse?"

"But it's not Pikachu," Ryuichi complained. "It's pika pika!"

"And I think that's our cue to leave." Suguru grabbed Ryuichi's arm and forcibly tugged the other man away. "I'm sorry for bothering you. Good luck in your match!"

"Nice to meet you both!" Ryou called back, slightly weirded out but still cheerful. Max and Zeo returned, passing the departing two on their way, and shot their teammate a questioning look as they unloaded their goodies from the tray. The Bladebreakers, he remembered, were supposed to be in a match right now.

"Wasn't that Suguru Fujisaki and Ryuichi Sakuma?" Max asked, offering Ryou a rice ball.

"They didn't tell me their last names, but yeah, I guess," Ryou mused, accepting the treat and biting deeply into it.

Zeo looked at Ryou oddly. "But what would the members of Bad Luck be doing here?"

"Bad Luck?" Ryou repeated. "Am I supposed to know who that is?"

"They're a rock group, but they had another member seven months ago. Unfortunately, Shuichi Shindou was a victim of the train wreck, though they never found his body," Max relayed. "It was a tragedy. It was after that that Ryuichi joined the group as a replacement singer."

"What did they want with you?" Zeo asked.

Ryou shrugged. "Ryuichi thought I was someone else. Suguru played interference. It was… strange."

Max nearly choked on his nachos, pounding on his chest to clear his airway before gaping at Ryou. "They did?"

Ryou nodded. "But Suguru didn't agree and dragged Ryuichi out."

"Interesting," Max mused. "You did tell them about your memory loss, right?"

The amnesiac rolled his eyes. "The odds of me actually being a singer aren't very good. I don't even like beyblading because of the crowds, and only a quarter of the focus is on me then! Can you imagine me on stage as a singer?"

"I imagine you freezing up more solid than a chunk of ice," Zeo admitted. "You don't like attracting attention."

Ryou nodded. "So we're agreed. Nutty singers aside, I'm not one myself!"

. . . . . . .

They finished their snacks just in time to be called for their match, and they filed into the stadium amidst DJ's overly-embellished introductions, taking their places across from their opponents. Ryou paid the theatrical announcer no mind, instead sizing up their opponents. It was a full team of four, three boys and one girl, all dressed in what looked like cheerleading uniforms. The girl smirked at his gaze, flipping her high brown ponytail over her shoulder, then turned back to her team.

It was a swift match. Zeo only spent bare seconds in battle, calling Cerberus back after one decisive hit to one of the boy's beyblades. The outcome of Max's battle was the same, and when Ryou climbed the stairs to the beystadium, he found himself confronted by the girl. Her glare was intense, but her beyblade was unbalanced, and it was with an internal sigh that he launched. His beyblade hardly even touched the floor of the dish before he was calling it back to his hand.

"And the winners are Team Gravity! They'll be moving onto the second round, one step closer to facing the world champions, the Bladebreakers!" DJ cheered.

As the tournament continued, Ryou saw the singer Ryuichi slinking around, but for the most part he was left in peace. The only sign that the singer had been around was the bunny Kumagoro, which mysteriously showed up in the locker room sometime during the semifinal match. The Bladebreakers and Team Gravity were at a loss as to what it meant, but Kumagoro was secured safely in Kyouju's laptop case and the finals were upon them.

As everyone had predicted, the tournament had come down to the Bladebreakers and Ryou's team. Kyouju settled into the stands, safely staying out of the way, but the two teams had practiced together for so long they knew what the other could do.

Ryou stared across the dish at Takao, Drasonet loaded onto the launcher and ready to go. The other beyblader grinned, waving cheerily.

"I won't go easy on you because you're new, okay?"

"I'd be disappointed if you did," the amnesiac returned, a small grin spreading on his face as well.

"Are you two ready?" DJ asked, looking between the two of them. "All right then! Three, two, one, let it rip!"

Drasonet thunked to the dish, making small circles before settling into his usual defensive position in the center of the dish. Dragoon landed close by, spinning in place for only a moment before darting forward. Ryou, knowing the attack was coming, was able to dodge, resuming his position without breaking a sweat. Dragoon circled around predatorily, and Takao grinned.

"I see you're not going to make it easy for me!"

It was Drasonet's turn for attacking this time, the black beyblade zooming away from Takao and circling back around to strike from behind. It picked up speed as it moved, and it was a solid hit that Ryou was able to deal before Takao called Dragoon back and Drasonet resumed his former position.

They went back and forth like that for a while, the two of them trading attacks but always retreating to their own corners of the dish. Ryou was prepared for such a long battle, his beyblade made especially for waiting out his opponents until the right moment for a counterattack, but he could tell that Takao was beginning to struggle. With such a strong opponent, though, he knew he had to wait a little longer before he could end the battle.

Almost desperately Takao went on the attack, battering away at Ryou's blade with a frenzy that could only mean that he was at the end of his stamina. Drasonet weathered the assault without too much of a problem, only needing to dodge one or two strikes, but towards the end he could see that even the spider bit beast's stamina was about to wear out. It was time to end this.

With Dragoon staggering from his failed assaults, Ryou went on the attack. It was almost a simple matter to drive Takao to the edge of the dish, and despite Takao's frantic defenses, it didn't take too long for Drasonet to give Dragoon one last nudge. It wasn't a spectacular win by any means, but Dragoon teetered on the edge of the dish for all of two seconds before toppling over, landing solidly on the floor outside of the dish.

The crowd exploded, cheers and shouts and whistles all mingling together and blasting the two beybladers with sound. Takao reached down and gathered his beyblade, staring numbly down at the dragon pictured there. Ryou called Drasonet back, not quite believing the outcome.

"In a surprising upset, Takao has been defeated by newcomer Ryou!" DJ declared, gesturing broadly to the black-haired teen. "This puts them one step closer to a win and representing Japan!"

"That was a good battle!" Takao enthused, shaking himself from his reverie and grinning at the other teen. "I didn't realize you were quite that good! Have you been practicing without us knowing it?"

"It was tough," Ryou admitted. "You almost got me with those last strikes."

"Didn't seem like it to me," the blue-haired teen noted. "I hope we can battle again!"

Ryou shook hands with Takao and retreated to the bench set aside for the waiting team members, withstanding the double glomp without much more than a resigned sigh. Zeo and Max were chattering excitedly about his unexpected win, congratulating him on using strategy to triumph. The other two battles were equally fierce, Zeo taking on Rei and Max battling Kai. Unfortunately for them, Rei was faster than Zeo, while Kai's sheer power overwhelmed Max's defenses. This meant that, despite Ryou's initial win, Team Gravity had lost the preliminaries.

Ryou held his silver trophy, not as disappointed as he'd expected. On the platform with the dish, Takao, Rei, and Kai accepted gold trophies, while DJ chattered on about the Bladebreakers once again representing Japan.

"And here's Mr. Daitenji with one final announcement!" the announcer grinned, handing a microphone over to the short and plump elderly man that had appeared at his elbow. Mr. Daitenji coughed once before speaking.

"Many congratulations to the Bladebreakers for their victory in this tournament!" This was met with cheers, Takao grinning behind him and waving his trophy. "However, the team representing Japan in this year's tournament shall be Team Gravity!"

Ryou, Max, and Zeo all shared puzzled looks. "What's he planning now, I wonder?" the blonde murmured.

"What's up, Mr. Daitenji!" Takao yelled. "We won!" He was waving his trophy still, but in anger, not victory.

Mr. Daitenji grinned. "Now hold on, Takao. As the world champions, it's been decided that the Bladebreakers will automatically be entered into the World Championships. That means you young fellows are the team to beat! As the runners up, Team Gravity is naturally the next choice to represent Japan."

Max ran up to the edge of the platform. "You mean we're going on?" he asked earnestly, wide blue eyes shining with hope.

"Yes, Max. You, Zeo, and Ryou will be going on to the world championships." The older man grinned at Max and winked. "You'd better start training."

Zeo whooped, punching a fist into the air. Ryou's elation was confined to a wide grin on his face, his hand pumped by so many different faces he could hardly keep track of them all, and his uncovered eye turned everything into a giant blur.

It wasn't until they were retreating to the locker rooms to retrieve their belongings that things seemed to become real. Daitenji was waiting for them there, two envelopes in his hands. The two teams came to a stop upon seeing him, gathering behind their unofficial team leaders.

"Here are your travel plans," the BBA president informed them, handing one envelope each to Max and Takao. "Good luck to all of you! This looks like the most exciting tournament yet!"

Takao groaned. "Don't say that. With our luck, we'll have a repeat of last year."

Ryou glanced curiously at him. "Do I want to know?"


	6. Chapter 5

Warnings and Disclaimer are in the first chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

They departed a month after Japan's preliminary tournament, a date decided because it took that long for the other countries to have their preliminaries and choose their teams. The Bladebreakers and Team Gravity headed for different places, as they'd be going around and battling the top teams in each country separately before they congregated in America for the world championships. Ryou, curious, asked Max two weeks into their world tour about the tournament format. The blonde explained that it was how beyblading tournaments were usually conducted, though he admitted he didn't know the exact reasons why.

Even so, the month that Ryou spent traveling around the world with Team Gravity was a thrilling one for the amnesiac teen. Between Australia, Africa, South America, and Europe, there were so many stunning sights and great people to meet. The beyblade tournaments were scattered in there, almost lost in the simple awe of experiencing things Ryou simply hadn't before. However, it was no challenge for him to buckle down and focus on the tournaments, and his skill with his beyblade grew with every battle, as he got used to Drasonet and learned some quirks of his bit beast. It seemed that his armored spider was rather fond of taunting its opponents, something that Ryou didn't like, personally, but it proved an effective strategy in many cases.

Thus, with only a few more wins than losses under his belt, Ryou stepped off of an airplane into Las Vegas, no longer phased by the herds of people passing before him towards the exit. Behind him, Max and Zeo were checking to make sure they still had all of their carryon gear. Studying the crowds intently, Ryou's face lit up into a rare smile and he waved madly, attracting the attention of more than just the person he sought.

"Doctor Frasier!" he called, standing on his toes to better be seen. The object of his attention turned towards him and grinned, walking briskly towards him, a familiar teenaged girl and four not-so-familiar strangers trailing along behind her. He'd called Janet ahead of time to let her know when they'd be showing up, and he was looking forward to meeting her again after so long. Behind his former doctor, four people in plain clothes looked only a little out of place, and he shot them a curious glance before Janet was upon him and he was caught in a double-sided hug.

"It's good to see you, Ryou!" Janet greeted warmly, releasing him to run a critical eye over him. "Goodness, your hair's gotten long. It looks like you've healed up nicely, though!" And with that, she pulled out a small stick that Ryou knew quite well. "Now look straight ahead for me, hm?"

The teen groaned but complied, enduring the Penlight of Doom in his slowly healing left eye. "You seem like you've just been waiting to do that," he observed, blinking the spots out of his eye once she finally released him. Behind him, he heard one snicker and a confused murmur.

"I've been worried about your eye," Janet said, pocketing her penlight and waving the four strangers over. "I'd like you to meet my friends. Guys, this is that patient I told you about, Ryou Mizuhara."

The three men and single woman stepped forward. The older man with graying hair and keen blue eyes offered his hand to Ryou with a preciseness of movement that vaguely tugged at the amnesiac teen's mind, but it was quickly lost when the man spoke. "Jack O'Neill. Nice to meet you."

Ryou shook hands, and then the next man was in front of him. This man was slightly shorter than Jack, blonde hair cropped close to his skull and glasses sending his blue eyes slightly out of focus. Ryou shook the proffered hand. "I'm Daniel Jackson."

The woman was next, her blonde hair not quite reaching her chin, but her eyes were kind. When she moved, it wasn't with quite the same precision as Jack, but it was getting there, he could tell. Again, it nagged at him, but whatever it was that he was being reminded of stayed stubbornly hidden from him, and he shook his head minutely before accepting the woman's hand. "Samantha Carter," she greeted warmly.

The last stranger merely inclined his head, prompting the Japanese-born teenagers to bow back to him. "I am Murray."

"Well, now that everyone's been introduced, shall we get to the hotel?" Janet said brightly. Cassandra bounced in place next to her, obviously eager to go. "I'm sure everyone wants to get comfortable after such a long plane trip!"

Janet drove them to their hotel while the four teenagers chattered happily in the back, Cassandra gleefully updating them about various goings on in her local school. As Ryou had never been to school that he could remember, he listened intently to the stories, something that amused Max and Zeo to no end. They took to teasing him for the rest of the trip by telling outlandish stories that he at first believed, but by the time Janet had parked them he'd caught on to their ploy.

"Here we are!" Janet announced, waving at the hotel as they gathered their bags from the trunk of the car. Ryou glanced around and saw, to his surprise, Janet's friends getting out of their own car a few spots down. "I hope you don't mind us following you around, but we're staying at this hotel too!"

"That's okay," Ryou grinned. "Are they going to come to the tournament?"

Janet shrugged, but it was Daniel, walking over to them, that answered. "We haven't actually seen any beyblade matches, but we all figured that it'd be a good break."

"From deep space radar telemetry," Cassie said, voice, oddly deadpan. "Such hard work."

Janet lightly whapped her daughter on the head. "Since you invited me, I figured you wouldn't mind if I brought friends."

"I'm a bit confused about the rules," Daniel admitted a bit sheepishly. "While you unpack, do you think you could explain?"

. . . . . . .

The tournament wouldn't be held for another three days, time enough for the rest of the teams from around the world to arrive and get settled in. Team Gravity spent the time in the beystadium practicing, Janet's friends their almost-constant shadows. It wasn't all four at the same time, Ryou noticed in between bouts and tweaking Drasonet every few battles. They seemed to take shifts watching the beybladers, and by the time the tournament started, Max and Zeo had finally noticed all of the attention.

While waiting for the Bladebreakers to show up the night before the tournament, as they'd somehow missed a plane and had to bus across half of the US, the teens gathered in their (thankfully) adult-free room. Ryou leaned against the headboard of the bed he had to himself, watching Zeo and Max as they dragged out a deck of cards and turned the other bed into an impromptu card table.

"Have you noticed that Doctor Frasier's friends are always hanging around?" Max asked casually, dealing out a hand of what looked like Go Fish. Zeo took his cards absently, glancing at Ryou and Max before turning his attention to his hand.

Ryou shrugged. "They're not always hanging around me," he said truthfully.

"They're always watching me," Zeo grumped, slapping a pair of cards to the blanket in front of him. "It's annoying! Especially Miss Carter… It seems like she wants to dismantle me or something."

Ryou opened his mouth to say that of course that's not what Sam wanted to do, but when he thought about it, the older woman did seem to have an undue interest in their android member. He didn't realize that he'd forgotten to close his mouth before drifting off into thought until Max, snickering quietly, threw a piece of popcorn at him. Ryou chewed it without thinking, then blinked confusedly, prompting laughter from his teammates.

"Does Miss Carter even know you're an android?" Ryou asked when his mouth was free again. Zeo shrugged.

"Well, it's not exactly a secret, remember? I sort of wish it were, but unless you told Doctor Frasier and she told them, the only way they could have known would be to check the tournament listings."

Ryou nodded. "Didn't you ask them to take off that annotation? I mean, you're a competitor, right?"

Zeo grumped. "They didn't think it'd be fair to the other competitors. I guess having an android opponent just has to be broadcast." He made a face, then asked Max for a 3, claiming three cards for his own.

"Miss Carter's in the Air Force, right?" Max asked. "Along with Mr. O'Neill and… Murray."

"What would the Air Force want with you?" Ryou wondered, tapping his chin thoughtfully. Their musings were interrupted by Janet arriving with pizza and drinks, and the card game was abandoned in favor of refreshments.

. . . . . . .

The Bladebreakers arrived early the next day at the hotel, a bit worse for wear but nonetheless ready for a hard day of competition. Team Gravity greeted them at the door and then promptly stepped aside to let them head to their room for much-needed showers, offering their shower as well for use. Thus the first day of the Beyblade World Championships dawned, and the two teams, Zeo's erstwhile shadows in tow, made their way to the stadium.

The tournament opened with a lot of fanfare, fireworks and the like going off during the opening ceremonies right over the assembled teams' heads. Ryou started when the first of the fireworks went off but otherwise didn't react, suffering the attention with far more ease than when he'd first started out. He was certainly still nervous, but with Drasonet's predatory calm to balance it out, the bit beast impatient for the tournament to begin. He held his beyblade in one hand tightly, silently urging his partner to stay calm, as they'd get to fight soon.

The announcer DJ was there, speaking in English for the benefit of the mostly American audience, but for those that were less than fluent in the language there were translators on hand. Ryou briefly wondered why this particular announcer had come all the way from Japan to participate, but then shrugged it off and just went with it.

"Welcome to the World Championships!" DJ declared, one hand swept open in greeting. "All of the finest teams from around the world have gathered here in Las Vegas to battle it out to become the number one beybladers in the world! First up we have defending champions, the Bladebreakers!"

The spotlights sought out Takao, Kai, and Rei from the sea of beybladers. Takao jumped and waved, grinning madly at any and everything, while Kai just glowered and Rei smiled and waved a little bit. There was a large cheer from the crowd, marking the returning champions as the favorite, hands down.

"Representing Japan we have a team of new and familiar faces, Team Gravity!" DJ continued once the crowd had quieted.

Another cheer, though this one was markedly less enthusiastic. Ryou bore the blinding intensity of the spotlights resignedly, ignoring how Max practically bounced on his head in his enthusiasm and Zeo tried to make himself as small and non-threatening as possible.

"Next up, returning to once again represent America, we have the PPB All Starz!"

Ryou craned his head to see this team. Made up of what looked like a baseball player, a basketball player, and a tennis player, he wondered how the PPB All Starz had managed to get into the beyblading tournament, but his attention was dragged back to DJ when the announcer continued.

"Representing most of Europe we have the Majestics!" That was one team Ryou had encountered on his travels, and he winced, remembering his spectacular loss against the French teen Oliver.

"And from China, please welcome back the White Tigers!"

"Rei'll be happy," Max murmured, a smile on his face. Ryou followed the spotlights to a group of wild-looking teens, three boys and a girl, who all looked more than happy to be there.

"From Russia, we all remember these cool cats, the Blitzkrieg Boys!" DJ continued, oblivious to the sideline commentary.

Ryou eyed that team warily, momentarily locking eyes with a redhead. There was no hostility between them, though, just two competitors sizing each other up, and Ryou broke their eye contact to return his attention to DJ.

"From Australia, we have a group of newcomers, but don't let them fool you! Welcome the Wallabies!"

Ryou had fought that team as well on his world tour. The team was made up of siblings, three older sisters and a younger brother, who all shared the same deep brown hair and shining gray eyes. It was disconcerting, to say the least, especially when he found out that they all had different battling styles the hard way.

"And lastly, from Africa, welcome Team Sahara!"

This was another team that Gravity had encountered, comprised of three teenagers with dark complexions, night-black hair, and kind black eyes. He smiled at them from across the room and received grins in return.

"Unfortunately, our last two teams couldn't make it this year, but we'll wait for them next time!" DJ said, oddly cheerful. "Now, without further ado, let's announce the matchups!" All eyes turned to the giant screen dominating the room, which switched from random advertisements to a tournament roster.

"Team Gravity will be facing off against the PPB All Starz in the first round!" DJ announced. "The Bladebreakers and the White Tigers will get to duke it out, followed by Team Sahara and the Blitzkrieg Boys, and then the Majestics and the Wallabies!" He grinned at all of the assembled teams. "Team Gravity and the PPB All Starz, report to the beystadium, and let's get this tournament underway!"

And like that, the tournament kicked off. Most of the teams retreated to the locker rooms, while Ryou, Max, and Rei made their way over to the bench on one side of the stadium. The amnesiac team sat back and watched their opponents as they went about getting ready and, presumably, selecting their roster. He caught the baseball player, an older teen with blonde hair caught back under a baseball cap and wicked blue eyes in a somewhat handsome face, eying him predatorily, something that unsettled Ryou deeply. He looked away, at Max and Zeo, who seemed to be playing Rock, Paper, Scissors to determine who would have to go first. Rolling his eyes fondly, he said, "I'll go."

That distracted them, Zeo throwing paper a good few seconds after Max's scissors. "Huh?"

"I'll go first." Ryou stood, stretched, and pulled out his eyepatch. It had become almost second nature for him to tie it on, and once it was done he pulled out Drasonet and advanced on the beystadium, ignoring when DJ announced his name to the world and instead looking determinedly away from the stands, focusing on the beyblade in his hands. He heard a snicker and looked up to see the baseball player from the other team standing opposite, grinning dangerously at him.

"So you're Maxie's new teammate, huh?" the blonde asked, eyes flickering to the seats behind Ryou. "And here I thought Kai was the one to jump ship. Bet Takao was ticked, huh?"

"Who wants to know?" Ryou asked, somewhat annoyed. His opponent acted like he knew Max, but his teammate hadn't said anything about knowing any of the PPB All Starz.

"The name's Michael Parker," the blonde said, puffing his chest out. "Max used to be on our team, you know. In the last tournament, I mean. Last year he was working with us so he could have a chance to beat Takao!"

Ryou couldn't remember Max ever talking about that, but outside of that, he really had no way of knowing whether Michael was telling the truth. Instead of answering, he readied Drasonet and settled into his launching stance. Michael just tossed a baseball around, catching it in his gloved hand over and over again while DJ rambled on in the background about both beybladers' strengths and weaknesses. The amnesiac teen just wished they'd get the match to start already.

"And without further ado, let's get started!" DJ declared, as if reading Ryou's thoughts. "Bladers ready? Three! Two! One!"

Ryou tightened his grip on his launcher, while Michael caught his baseball and leaned back in what looked like a pitching stance.

"Let it rip!"

Drasonet landed solidly in the center of the overly large beystadium, hunkering down, while Michael's beyblade proved to be inside his baseball. The shock of seeing the white orb break open to reveal a yellow beyblade soon passed, though, and Ryou focused on the match, ignoring the cheers and shouts that arose as soon as the call to start had come.

"Let's get started, Trygle!" Michael called. "Take him out!"

The yellow beyblade zipped forward, battering away at Ryou, who for the moment held Drasonet in place and observed Trygle's movements. His violet beyblade easily withstood the attacks, which seemed to be focusing more on speed and retreating than any real damage. After a few moments, the amnesiac teen thought he'd figured out Trygle's pattern.

"What's wrong?" the American teen mocked from across the dish. "Afraid to fight back?"

Ryou only grinned at him and went on the offensive. While he'd noticed that most everyone he'd encountered liked to shout at their beyblades, as if the vocal prompting would improve performance, he just acted. That usually caught his opponents off guard, since they were expecting some kind of warning, but that fact was to his advantage.

Drasonet dodged Trygle's next attack with ease, delivering a blow to the passing beyblade, then retreated a little bit before the other could retaliate. This was the case with the next attack, and the next, Drasonet always slipping by the other without taking any damage. Ryou couldn't help his smirk at Michael's increasingly frustrated attacks, until finally, the blonde looked over at him and grinned.

"Think you're funny, do you? Try this on for size! Trygle!" Michael gestured at his beyblade, looking for all the world like a king summoning his minion. "Show this jerk who he's messing with!"

Wind and light engulfed the stadium, forcing Ryou to bring his arm up to protect his head from whatever might be flying around, and once it passed he came face to face with a giant yellow bird. It only took him a moment to figure out that this must be Michael's bit beast, Trygle. This was the first time Ryou had been confronted with another bit beast, but he knew he was prepared. Drasonet was just itching to come out to play.

"What do you think of Trygle now?" Michael taunted. "Give it up!"

Ryou's answer was a grin and one word. "Drasonet!"

The spider's appearance was much less dramatic than Trygle's. There was only a bit of deep violet light as Drasonet came out, and Ryou vaguely registered gasps and excited chatter from the nearly forgotten crowd before he smirked back at the American beyblader. Said teen was looking slightly taken aback.

"I didn't know you had a bit beast!" he said accusingly, crossing his arms in a huff.

"You never asked," was the reply, and then, "Drasonet, you know what to do!"

The spider crouched down, his large body nearly blocking Ryou's violet beyblade, and just waited. Trygle, having tensed for an attack, screeched and dove for its prey. Ryou winced at the piercing sound but otherwise didn't react, trusting that Drasonet could withstand the attack. His faith was rewarded when sharp talons found no purchase in violet armor. At his beyblader's unspoken command, the spider lurched while Trygle was reeling, capturing the bird in three of his eight legs and dragging him down. Trygle screeched in pain as several of Drasonet's quills struck home.

"Get away!" Michael shouted frantically, prompting Trygle to flap its wings and shake Drasonet off. The spider retreated a little ways at Ryou's silent prompting while the bird shook itself, loosing several pink quills that had become lodged in its wings. The blonde beyblader glared at Ryou. "That was a dirty trick."

"You unleashed your bit beast when you thought I had none," Ryou replied easily. "I'd call that a dirty trick." A small gesture, and Drasonet lurched forward, catching Trygle off guard. The bird managed to evade the spider by taking to the air, where it obviously thought Drasonet couldn't reach, and Ryou could only shake his head. "Trying for an attack from the air?"

Michael said nothing except, "Get him, Trygle!"

"Counter, Drasonet," Ryou ordered calmly. His spider hunched down until, Trygle's talons almost upon him, he unleashed his quills, striking home and knocking the bird far away. The crowd held its breath as time seemed to slow, waiting to see what happened next.

Trygle vanished with a flash of light and the yellow beyblade thunked to the ground many feet away outside of the stadium. "Ryou and Drasonet are the winners!" DJ announced, his voice prompting an explosion of cheers. Drasonet hissed fondly, raising one leg to gently nudge Ryou, an act of affection that took the teen off guard. He returned it, though, patting his partner while taking care to avoid the pink quills. With a rumble the spider vanished back into the beyblade, which jumped up into Ryou's hand without prompting.

Ryou didn't pay much attention to the rest of the match when his battle was over. Zeo faced off against the basketball player, Eddy Wheeler, and his giant armored scorpion bit beast Trypio, but came out just short of claiming victory when the other caught him off guard. Max's battle against Emily York and Trygator worked out far better, Draciel easily defeating the alligator bit beast, and the two beybladers bantered like old friends all through the match. At the end, Team Gravity was declared the winners and they retreated to the stands to watch the rest of the day's matches. In the end, the Majestics defeated the Wallabies without much effort on their part, the Bladebreakers defeated the White Tigers, and the Blitzkrieg Boys pummeled Team Sahara.

Back at the hotel, Ryou stretched and headed for his bag, intent on showering after a long day and getting some dinner. Max had all three beyblades in front of him on the bed and was tinkering a bit, having become the team mechanic in lieu of Kyouju. Zeo bounced on his heels a few moments, obviously bored, before saying, "Does anyone want to come down with me to the lobby? I heard Takao say that they were gonna head there when we got back, and I'm dying to hear how their trip went!"

"We haven't had a chance to talk to them since they got here," Max agreed. The two teams had been kept apart by their separate matches and the hordes of fans surrounding Takao and, to a lesser extent, Max himself. "Let me finish tweaking our beyblades and I'll go down with you."

Zeo looked to Ryou, who'd finished gathering a fresh set of clothes and was headed into the bathroom. "What about you?"

"Shower first," the raven-haired teen replied. "Those lights they use are unbearably hot! Why don't you go down by yourself? I'm sure Takao won't mind."

Zeo still looked undecided, but after a moment he nodded. "All right, but if you're not down in ten minutes, Max, I'm coming back up for you!" he mock-threatened. He vanished through the door without further protest, and both of the other teens could hear his footsteps pounding all the way down to the elevator. Without another word Ryou locked himself in the bathroom. When he showered he never looked in the mirrors in the bathroom, a habit he'd adopted in the hospital. He just didn't like seeing the scars that still adorned his body and always would.


	7. Chapter 6

Warnings and Disclaimer are in the first chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

The next day of the tournament dawned brightly amid the noise of the streets of Las Vegas, and the hotel full of beybladers became something of a madhouse as each of the teams prepared for the next day's battles. The teams that had been knocked out previously were still there, but they would be watching from the sidelines now, cheering the rest of the teams on.

In the process of dressing in his usual attire in the bathroom, Ryou realized something and poked his head into the main room. "Hey, Max, have you seen Zeo?"

The blonde, half-dressed in the middle of the room and apparently lacking any body shyness, paused as he thought. "No, come to think of it. He never came back for me last night when I didn't make it downstairs. And I don't remember him coming back up at all."

"Maybe he bunked with Takao?" Ryou murmured, retreating back into the bathroom to finish dressing. He'd ask the other team when he had the chance. Looking himself over in the mirror critically to make sure that all of his scars were covered, he nodded in satisfaction and reached for his hairbrush. His now-nearly chin-length hair seemed lately to be completely unmanageable, prompting thoughts of maybe cutting it, but that thought passed as quickly as it'd come. His hair was finally long enough to block the view of the scar on his cheek, something for which he was grateful. With his hair brushed just so, he got far less questions about his scar. He finished brushing his hair and teeth, then freed the bathroom for Max to do with as he pleased.

"I'm going down to breakfast," the amnesiac teen called over the sound of running water. Hearing a sound that could have been a yes, he shrugged, grabbed a room key, and made his way down to the small dining area just off the lobby. It had all kinds of pastries set up for people to enjoy, including a Belgian waffle maker, and many of the hotel's patrons were milling around eating.

"Over here, Ryou!" he heard someone call, and he turned to see Takao, Rei, Kai, and Kyouju occupying a table off in the corner. He waved to show he'd heard and grabbed a few things from the selection of food at random before heading over there.

"Morning," he greeted, digging into a Pop Tart.

"Morning!" Takao bounced, somehow speaking around two donuts crammed into his mouth. "Man, can you believe how crazy it was yesterday?"

"It is the world championships," Rei remarked dryly. He had waffles in front of him, though he seemed to be taking his time with eating them. "Lots of people are going to be milling around."

Ryou nodded in agreement. "Speaking of people, where's Zeo? He never came back after going to see you guys last night."

Takao cocked his head. "Really? He never came to see us last night… I meant to ask you about that."

"Do you think he wandered off?" Rei wondered, even as he sliced off a bit of waffle with his fork and brought it to his mouth.

"It's not like him… And I haven't seen Doctor Frasier or her friends since last night, come to think of it," Ryou mused.

"Bah, I'm sure he's fine," Takao said dismissively, waving a donut-filled hand. "Now, seriously, you have to hear about our trip! We landed in New York and were supposed to catch a plane over here, but two guys…"

. . . . . . .

After breakfast Ryou and Max went to Janet's room to see if she'd seen Zeo, but Cassandra answered the door. "What's up?" she asked, glancing between the two boys.

"Zeo never came back last night. We were wondering if you'd seen him," Ryou explained. Max stood behind him, glancing around as if maybe he'd catch sight of the green-haired boy coming around the corner.

"Nope, haven't seen him!" Cassandra said a bit too quickly. "Are you sure he's not with one of your friends?"

"We asked. Where's Doctor Frasier or her friends?" Ryou asked curiously.

"Oh, nowhere. They said they'd be back to take me to the tournament, though, so I'm not worried about them." Cassandra spoke just a bit faster than normal and glanced between the two boys constantly, uncharacteristically nervous. "Speaking of the tournament, shouldn't you guys get going? The bus is about to leave soon."

"What about Zeo?" Max asked, gnawing his thumb worriedly. "We can't battle without him…"

Cassandra smiled suddenly. "I wouldn't worry about him. He should be at the stadium before your match. Trust me! There's no way guys like that stay lost forever!"

With that, she shut the door in their faces, effectively ending their discussion. At a bit of a loss, all the two beybladers could do was get on the bus to go to the stadium like she'd suggested. However, there was no sign of their wayward member even after the tournament was once again underway and the Bladebreakers solidly beat the Blitzkrieg Boys in three straight matches. When his turn came Ryou nearly lost against Oliver of the Majestics since his attention was so divided between the match and worry for his teammate. He retrieved his blade after a narrow victory and retreated to the team bench, where he caught Max nervously chewing the end of his ripcord and watching the entrance to the stadium worriedly.

"If he doesn't show up, do you think they'd let one of us go again?" the blonde asked, glancing between the announcer DJ, the door, and the judges' booth high above the stands.

Ryou shrugged. "We just have to hope he does come. Now go on, I think the crowd's getting impatient."

Max nodded and went on to start his battle, while Ryou took up watching the stadium doors. His worry for his teammate overshadowed his worry for the tournament, and he hoped that Zeo was really okay. Why hadn't he called the police? Max won his battle and returned to the bench, watching the door intently with him.

"I explained to DJ, and they're going to give us five minutes," the blonde informed Ryou. "If he's not here, then even though we both won, we're going to get disqualified."

The amnesiac winced. "That's harsh."

They both fidgeted and the crowd grew restless, whispers and catcalls reaching the floor, and just when it looked like their erstwhile team member was going to be MIA, the doors flew open. Panting and looking a bit worse for wear, Zeo dashed into the stadium. He was still in the same clothes from the night before, it looked like, and his green hair was mussed several different ways, and were those singe marks?

"Sorry I'm late!" the android panted, skidding to a stop in front of a very concerned Ryou and Max. "I'll explain later, am I too late for the match?"

Max turned him around and shoved him towards the stadium. "Another few seconds and yeah, you would have been. Now get up there!"

Zeo staggered a bit but complied, dashing up to the dish. On a hunch Ryou looked around and, sure enough, he saw Sam, Daniel, Jack, and Murray leaning against the wall near the stadium door. The four of them looked as if they'd had as rough a night as Zeo, which led to all sorts of questions, but with his friend safe and sound Ryou felt oddly disinclined to ask about it. Whatever had happened hadn't led to anything horrible happening, so he didn't feel like it was important. Of course, if Zeo wanted to tell them what happened, that'd be a different story…

He was dragged from his musings by DJ shouting Zeo's victory for the stadium to hear, and he rose to congratulate his teammate. Later, in the safety of the locker room after the day's events were closed, both the Bladebreakers and Team Gravity cornered the android teen.

"So what happened to you, Zeo?" Takao asked, hands on his hips and a concerned look on his face. "We were really worried about you, man!"

Zeo only shrugged, running a hand through his hair and only serving to mess it up even more. "Sorry, guys, but I don't know. One minute I was in the hotel last night, and then I'm in Major Carter's car on the way to the stadium…"

"Major Carter?" Max echoed. "You mean Sam Carter? I didn't know she was a Major…"

Zeo shrugged. "I don't know what happened, honestly, and Major Carter wouldn't explain. Actually, I don't know how I know her rank, either…" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "And Doctor Jackson's a linguist!"

Everyone looked ready to badger Zeo about it, but Ryou stepped between them. He knew what it was like to not remember something, and he stopped them with a look.

"Whatever happened to Zeo last night, he's here now, and he's safe. Let's get back to the hotel, shower, and get ready for the finals tomorrow. All right?"

There were some half-hearted arguments, but Ryou stood firm, and as a group they made their way to the bus that would take them back to their hotel. On their way out, Zeo caught Ryou's sleeve and gave the teen a grateful smile.

"Thanks," the green-haired teen said sincerely. Ryou waved it off.

"No problem. Just don't go anywhere without us again, okay?"

Zeo nodded agreeably.

. . . . . . .

"Welcome to the finals of the World Beyblading Championship!" DJ announced, earning cheers, whistles, and all manner of noise from the stadium around him. "We have three-time world champions the Bladebreakers versus the upstart Team Gravity! It's anyone's game today as we come into the final battles to determine who will be crowned this year's champions!"

Ryou tuned out of DJ's announcement halfway through the melodramatic spiel, tightening his grip on Drasonet and just waiting for the battle to start. The night before Kyouju had camped out in their room and totally overhauled all their beyblades, ensuring that they were all in peak condition for the match today. The genius teen was currently in the stands, safely neutral with his precious laptop in tow. There was no doubt that he'd be gathering data on both teams during their battles.

The lineup had been decided the night before. Max would face off against Kai, Ryou against Rei, and Zeo against Takao. For his part, Ryou was looking forward to his match. It'd been ages since his last bout against Rei and he was eager to test his skills. Zeo and Max, next to him, were chatting strategies quietly, low enough not to disturb the announcements but loud enough to include Ryou, if he wished to interject. The amnesiac was content to just sit there and feel Drasonet in his hands. As if sensing something was going to happen, the spider was oddly on edge, eager to get out and get things done. Ryou felt the same, just wanting to get things over with.

"And without further ado, let's get started!" DJ announced about ten minutes later, rousing Ryou from an almost-doze. "Teams, send your first players up!"

Kai advanced to the dish from the opposite side, and Max bounced up excitedly. "Good luck!" Ryou and Zeo chorused, earning a grin from the blonde before he skipped excitedly up to the beystadium. The match was quick and fierce, Dranzer overwhelming Driger's defenses with ease born of familiarity. At the end, Max glomped Kai fiercely and made his way back to his team, not seeming to mind his loss.

"You're next, Ryou," Max chirped. "I saw Rei getting up after I'd lost!"

"It was a good match," Ryou assured him, getting up and digging for his eyepatch.

"Good luck!" Max and Zeo said at the same time, the former grinning and giving him a thumbs-up while the latter just gave him a positive grin. Ryou returned the thumbs-up and turned to the dish, where, sure enough, Rei waited for him patiently.

"I'm not going to go easy on you," Rei warned, Driger loaded and ready.

Ryou grinned daringly back. "Same here."

"Are you guys ready?" DJ asked them both. When they nodded, he continued, "Then let's get going! Three! Two! One! Let it rip!"

Rei and Ryou launched their beyblades. Drasonet took up his usual spot in the center of the dish, while Driger darted back and forth predatorily. The beyblade's erratic movements made it hard to predict where it'd go next, which, Ryou mused, was undoubtedly the effect Rei was going for. He stayed calm, however, watching Driger carefully and waiting for his opportunity.

Without warning Driger dashed forward, meeting Drasonet in a flurry of squealing metal. Drasonet held his ground for the first few hits, but the next few knocked him backwards, towards the edge of the dish. Ryou winced but stayed focused on the battle, silently urging Drasonet away from Driger. The spider took up a position on the other side of the dish, wobbling a bit from the suddenly fierce onslaught but recovering nicely.

Rei gave Ryou a fanged smile. "Running away?"

"Gonna chase me?" Ryou taunted right back. They traded comments like that for what seemed like an eternity, Drasonet barely keeping one step ahead of Driger as the battle went on. The spider could weather assault nearly as well as Draciel, but when it came to trying to outrun the speedy Driger, Ryou found himself struggling. He grit his teeth as yet more strikes sent Drasonet back, the beyblade teetering on the edge of the dish. Even without summoning him Driger was a force to be reckoned with.

"It looks like Ryou's nearing the end of his rope!" DJ crowed to the audience. "Could this be the end of the line for Team Gravity?"

Ryou ignored the commentator, going on the offensive. He didn't want to admit that it was a last-ditch effort, but with the way Driger was knocking him around there wasn't any way Drasonet would be able to last long enough to wait out the other beyblade like he normally would. To his annoyance, Driger dodged almost every one of his attacks, only the last few connecting in glancing blows.

"Let's finish this, Driger!" Rei declared, reaching a hand out to his beyblade as if to control it himself. Driger obeyed his command, renewing his strikes, and Drasonet simply couldn't withstand the assault. Ryou watched, strangely impassive, as his beyblade was delivered one final strike that sent it sailing out of the stadium and thunking to the ground next to him.

"And the win goes to Rei!" DJ cheered. "With two losses, this means that Team Gravity is knocked out and the Bladebreakers are the winners!"

Ryou gathered Drasonet and walked silently back to his team, disappointment coursing through him. As if reading his mind, Max patted his arm and said, "You did really well! We wouldn't have gotten this far without you!"

The amnesiac teen managed a small smile. "Thanks, but we still lost."

Max waved his hand. "Winning's not the important thing. We had fun, right? And Zeo gets his rematch against Takao!"

"Which I'm looking forward to!" the android put in eagerly, bouncing to his feet. "It may not matter, but it's still our third match, and I'll do my best to win!"

"Good luck!" Max cheered. Ryou smiled in encouragement and settled back to watch.

The battle was easily the most intense of the whole tournament, Cerberus and Dragoon attacking each other full-force. The shockwaves from when the two bit beasts clashed reverberated through the whole stadium, nearly knocking Ryou off the bench when the first one hit him. He braced himself and watched the battle, entranced. Dragoon and Cerberus seemed to dance around each other even as they attacked, graceful movements that held Ryou enthralled. He was witnessing a sort of skill at this sport that he knew he hadn't yet achieved, even though he'd made it to the World Championships. That had been on sheer luck and intuition, as well as thanks to Drasonet, who sometimes acted of his own accord. Watching Takao and Zeo struggle against each other…

Max glanced over at Ryou. "Hey, you okay?"

That shook Ryou out of his reverie, and he looked at Max in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You're crying."

The amnesiac teen brought a gloved hand to his face and brushed away a few tears he hadn't realized he'd shed. "That's strange…"

"Penny for your thoughts?" the blonde asked, no longer paying attention to the battle going on in front of them.

Ryou shook his, a small smile on his face as he looked at the two bit beasts, which were now locked together in a show of brute force. "I was just admiring Takao and Zeo. They're so skilled… I'm just lucky I got this far in my first tournament."

Max waved his hand. "You're just as skilled as them, even if just a little rough around the edges. You've got natural talent! Next year I'll bet you'll be the one to beat!"

Ryou grinned, but was saved from responding by the crowd. A roar rippled through the stadium, and the two beybladers turned back to the stadium. They found Zeo retrieving his beyblade from a good distance away, laughing the whole while. Takao was still standing at the dish with Dragoon summoned, bouncing and waving at the crowd, his triumphant laugh underscoring the cheers and applause that thundered around them.

"Takao Kinomiya has won!" DJ announced, having to yell to be heard. "This means that, with three straight wins, the Bladebreakers are your new four-time World Champions!" Another cheer. " Come on up and get your trophy, guys! You too, Gravity! You guys get a silver trophy, or did you think you were gonna be forgotten?"

Ryou wiped his face free of the last stray tears and stood with Max. Together they made their way up to the dish, where DJ had pulled a silver trophy from somewhere and was offering to them. Ryou, Max, and Zeo each shared a grin and took the trophy together, holding it as one. As if by unspoken agreement Max and Zeo let go, leaving Ryou with the trophy, though the amnesiac didn't seem to notice. His earlier mood was forgotten in the after-battle thrill, and he didn't even mind a four-way glomp courtesy of Max, Zeo, Takao, and Cassandra.

"Give it up for your Champions and runners-up! And with that, the World Championships are over! Hope to see everyone here next year for another exciting round of battles!"


	8. Chapter 7

Warnings and Disclaimer are in the first chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Returning to Japan and his normal routine after the Beyblade World Championships was, for Ryou, both a relief and a disappointment. It had been hectic to be always on the move, having to be in different places almost constantly and say goodbye to everyone a lot. At the same time, the amnesiac had been so caught up in the simple thrill of the experience that he missed it. He woke up every day feeling a little bit empty, going through his normal routine mechanically. With the next World Championship a year away, Ryou was at a loss for what to fill the gap left by that event.

A month passed painfully slowly for him, as he spent his days at Takao's practicing with his friends and adopted family and his nights working in Mr. Mizuhara's shop. Drasonet could feel his dissatisfaction and worked hard to help keep him entertained, but there was only so much the bit beast could do for him. Each day he woke up it was harder and harder to get out of bed, and he went to bed grateful for the sanctuary of sleep. He mused, awake but still in bed one day, that it couldn't have been a good sign for him to prefer the realm of dreams instead of wakefulness.

That afternoon, he was once again in Takao's yard, ruthlessly beating one of Kyouju's spare beyblades into spare parts. Rei, Kai, and Zeo weren't there, each tending to whatever business they had outside of beyblading. Their absence reminded the amnesiac that all he had was beyblading, as he lacked a past and a direction for his future. Though, while he was thinking of it, a lot of college brochures had been popping up around the house lately. Maybe he'd start looking through them…

He'd spaced out as he'd gotten lost in his thoughts, so he felt he could be forgiven his alarmed shout when a tap came to his shoulder. Drasonet hit the worse-for-wear beyblade at an odd angle and was deflected into the wall, but Ryou only spared an apologetic thought for his friend. He whirled around to see who had snuck up on him, blinking when he came face to face with a familiar pink bear.

"Kumagoro?" he asked blankly. "I thought you were upstairs in my closet."

"That's just Kumagoro's brother!" the bear, in a high-pitched version of Ryuichi's voice, replied. Ryou, not feeling like playing any games, took the few steps around the corner of the house to see Ryuichi pressed flat against the house.

"Hi Ryuichi," the amnesiac greeted. He was regarded with surprised violet eyes before Ryuichi grinned and bounced away, whirling on his heels before coming to rest facing Ryou.

"Hi Ryou!" Ryuichi chirped, hugging his bear tightly to his chest. "I heard about the world championships! You did really well, huh?"

"Not well enough," Ryou sighed, leaning against the wall. "How about your singing career?"

"It's fun! Not as fun as it could be, though. Me and everyone are busy with preparing for the concert in two months," the singer sighed, rocking on his feet. "You know in two months it'll be exactly one year since the train accident?"

Ryou winced. "I wasn't thinking about it."

"Oh, right, you were in the accident too!" Ryuichi leaned in close and peered at him. "I wonder…" He hummed, glancing around the empty courtyard. Ryou followed suit and found that Kyouju and Takao were nowhere to be seen. "The concert I mentioned? It's a memorial one! You know, for the wreck!"

"Didn't your bandmate die there?" Ryou asked, though something shifted oddly in his chest at the words.

"And you survived!" Ryuichi bounced. "And look at you! Nearly Beyblade World Champion, friends all over the world! Did you know that other wreck survivors look to you for inspiration?"

That drew a blush in Ryou's cheeks, and he ducked his head to hide it. "Stop saying things like that. I'm just me."

"No really!" Ryuichi insisted. "Me and Hiro have been out talking to wreck survivors, and they all said that they look at you! You don't take pictures though, so they have screenshots of your last beybattle framed, but they like you!"

"What's to like?" Ryou murmured. "I don't have a past, and all I am is beyblading."

"But you made it to the World Championships!" Ryuichi insisted. "Even without a past, you're striving forward and doing what you can. And look how far you went! I already mentioned that you went to the World Championships, right? Went around the world? That's more than most of those people can say!"

"There's nothing now, though!" Ryou growled. He turned around and stormed to the wall, setting his attention on prying his partner out of the pockmarked wood. "I devoted everything to the world championships, and now there's nothing for me. I wake up every day and do nothing! How can I inspire anyone by doing nothing?" He punctuated his remark with a last fierce tug, freeing Drasonet and sending himself backwards from the force. Ryuichi giggled at the sight of him on the ground, and he scrambled to his feet with a scowl.

"Well, there is something you could do," Ryuichi said in a sing-song tone of voice. "Something isn't nothing, and it would be nice for all of the people who look up to you."

"Like what?" Ryou sighed.

"Would you appear at the concert?" the singer asked, suddenly deathly serious. The switch from bubbly was sudden enough to cause Ryou to blink twice, but then he frowned.

"What for? What could I possibly do?"

"Mr. Daitenji suggested that you and Team Gravity could have an exhibition match," Ryuichi suggested. "In between songs, you know? We'll be singing a lot of Shuichi's songs in his memory, but halfway through you all could just have a match! What do you think of that?"

Ryou chewed on his lip thoughtfully, weighing his options in his head.

"That sounds like a good idea!" Takao's voice suddenly spoke up, startling both violet-eyed boys. They turned to see Takao, Max, and Kyouju had appeared from in the house and had been listening to them. "I don't know about Rei and Kai, but I'd be happy to be your opponent!"

"I think we can get Zeo in on it too!" Max enthused. "What do you think, Ryou? You were wanting to do something, and it's something important too!"

Part of Ryou really wanted to say no. He'd survived the wreck he couldn't remember, and he was quite happy to keep moving forward and not look back. However, he knew that he had to do something different from what he was doing now, searching for a direction where he had none. And if what he did was helpful to someone…

"Why not?" he sighed.

Maybe while he was doing something for everyone else, he would find something for himself as well.

. . . . . . .

Ryou got off his bike and looked up at his destination, shading his eyes from the bright light. For the last few weeks he hadn't needed to wear the eyepatch while riding his bike or beyblading, as his left eye was only mildly blurry now, and if he wasn't focused on it he couldn't tell any difference between his left and right eyes. But now and again the blurriness would catch him off guard, serving to remind him that he still wasn't completely healed from that wreck that left him without his memory.

Gazing up at the NG Studios building, he had a fleeting, poetic thought, that maybe his eye wouldn't heal until his memory did. It passed quickly, though, and he turned his attention to securing his bike. That done, he looked around for any sign of his friends without expecting to see them. They were going to take the train to get here, and he'd had to leave before them if he'd had any hope of getting there on time on his bike. They hadn't asked him any questions when he'd told them, politely, that there was no way he was getting on a train.

There wasn't any sign of his friends, like he'd thought, so he ignored the looks of the people on the street and entered the building. On his way over he'd grudgingly begun to believe Ryuichi's claims about him, as he'd been stopped several times by all kinds of people. He'd been flattered by the requests for autographs, but there had been one young boy in particular that stood out.

"Aunty!" the boy cried upon seeing Ryou, tugging on a woman's arm and pointing at the amnesiac heading towards them. "It's him! It's Ryou, that beyblader! We saw him on TV, remember?"

"Are you sure?" the woman asked, looking up at Ryou. "Ah! It is him! Ryou!" she called, waving her hand. "Ryou Mizuhara! Can we have a word?"

Ryou obligingly slowed to a stop just in front of the woman and child. "Yes, can I help you?"

"What would you like to say to him, Tim?" the woman prompted. The child had blushed, hiding his face briefly before letting go of his aunt and taking a step towards Ryou. As he'd done so the teen had noted a long scar running across his head and around his eyes, as well as thin white lines traced over his arms.

"Thank you!" Tim said, bowing deeply to Ryou. "Even though you can't remember who you are, you're working hard towards what you believe in, so thank you! You're an inspiration to the rest of us who were in the train wreck too! I'm going to be a beyblader too when I get old enough, so I can help out everyone else who was hurt!"

Ryou didn't know what to say to that except, "Er, you're welcome?" He thought he may have been blushing.

"You look like that person who helped me, you know," Tim said, bouncing gleefully.

That got Ryou's attention. "Who?"

"The man who helped me out of the wreck. Mommy and sister were dead," and the boy's face scrunched up with tears he was furiously holding back, "but the man helped me. All I really saw were his eyes, they were like yours, but he grabbed me and helped me out of the window. I don't know what happened to him, I just ran." Tim had sniffled. "I think he died. It's not fair! He helped me and he should have lived too."

"Now, now Tim. You know that sometimes things don't work out the way we want," his aunt admonished. "And I'm sure Ryou has important things to do." She looked up at Ryou and smiled. "Thank you for indulging us."

"I'm glad that I can help someone," the amnesiac nodded, smiling back. He rode off a little way before Tim's voice stopped him again.

"Ryou, Ryou! Can I have your autograph?"

"Tim!" his aunt sighed. Ryou grinned and obliged.

He smiled fondly as he pushed the button to summon the elevator. If he was an inspiration to more than just one small boy, then maybe there was something to this whole memorial concert thing after all.

"Oh! Ryou!" Ryuichi's voice sounded from behind him, and he turned to see the singer waving at him. "You're here early! Where're the rest of your friends?" As always, he had Kumagoro with him, and the bunny's ears flopped with the singer's jog across the lobby.

Ryou shrugged. "Probably on the train. I didn't feel like taking it."

"I understand. Don't you, Kumagoro?" The bunny didn't answer in any way Ryou could see, but Ryuichi nodded sagely. The elevator arrived just then, and the two of them got on it.

Ryou said nothing the whole trip up, though he contemplated telling Ryuuichi about that boy on the way. He decided against it at the last moment. He didn't want to have to weather Ryuuichi's predictably enthusiastic response. The singer, for his part, was cooing softly at Kumagoro, oblivious to what was going on in Ryou's head.

"We'll be meeting in the third room on the left," Ryuichi said once the elevator arrived on the right floor. "You can go wait there, k? I'll go find K and Tohma and we can get the meeting started just as soon as your friends get here!"

Before Ryou could respond the singer was gone, bouncing down the hallway and humming a happy tune. He stared after Ryuichi for a moment before shrugging and heading towards the allotted room. It was a bare room, holding only a long table with many chairs and a TV in the corner, well lit by the light streaming in from the window. No one else was there, and the TV was just showing commercials for bands that Ryou had only heard of in passing. For lack of anything else to do, he wandered over to the window, looking down at the sidewalk. The room faced the road, providing the perfect vantage point to view the arrival of his friends, and he settled against the window frame to wait.

He didn't know low long he stood like that, staring out at the people on the street. He felt strangely at home here, in this building, and it was an odd sensation, to say the least. As far as he knew, he'd never been here before. Still, the familiarity he felt was undeniable. He wondered, fleetingly, if he'd have been able to find this room without Ryuichi's help. Green hair suddenly appeared on the sidewalk below him, and he leaned forward to get a better look. Sure enough, there was Zeo bouncing towards the door, and if he wasn't mistaken Kai was dragging Takao away from a street vendor, the rest of their friends looking on and giggling. Ryou let out a sigh of relief, not realizing until then just how worried he'd been for his friends.

"Oh, I didn't realize there was anyone else here," a surprised voice said from behind him, startling him out of his reverie. He jerked back away from the window, twisting to see Suguru and an unknown redhead staring at him interestedly.

"Ah, it's okay," he said quickly. He took a deep breath to try and slow his suddenly racing heart. "I was lost in thought, it's no problem."

"You're Ryou, right?" Suguru said, frowning a bit. "What are you doing here? Ryuichi didn't do something, did he?"

"It wouldn't surprise me," the redhead sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "I can only advise you to run."

"Too late!" Ryuichi chirped, bouncing into the room. Ryou's friends and teammates were right behind him, followed by two blondes that Ryou didn't know and Mr. Daitenji. One of the blondes wore simple khakis and a dress shirt, his long hair tied high on his head and his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. The other's hair was short and his clothes were simply elegant, dark pants and a dark shirt that shimmered in the sunlight streaming from the window. "Everyone's here now, so let's get started!"

"Thank you, Ryuichi," the short-haired blonde said, amused. "I think I can take it from here."

Ryuichi hid his pout behind Kumagoro.

"All right then, if we'll all get seated, we can get started," the blonde said. Everyone moved towards chairs, and Ryou found a seat between Max and Zeo. The Bladebreakers were seated along with Mr. Daitenji on the same side of the table, while the others sat on the other side. The blonde in charge remained standing at the head of the table, right next to the TV. "Bladebreakers, Team Gravity, meet Bad Luck. They're the ones who'll be singing at the concert. Bad Luck, these teams will be having a match during a break in the concert."

The redhead frowned. "How does a memorial concert turn into a beyblade match?"

"Ryou Mizuhara, as most of you are aware, was a victim of the train wreck," was the reply. "Ryuichi found that many of the other victims idolized Ryou, so I, along with Mr. Daitenji, thought that we'd get a better turnout if he was included in the concert in some way."

"It makes sense, in a way," Suguru mused. "But a beyblade match isn't involved with us, so why did you call the meeting, Mr. Seguchi?"

"I just thought you'd like to meet each other, since you'll all be at the same concert," Mr. Seguchi answered calmly. "We'll have to collaborate on advertising and everything else, and it would be good for our image if we worked closely on this."

"It makes sense," Rei mused. "It's all well and good for us to appear at a memorial together, but if we don't look like we're doing this willingly and cooperating then the public won't be inclined to attend. And this is also a charity concert, right?"

"Correct, Mr. Kon. All of the proceeds from the concert will be going to the victims and the families of victims," Mr. Seguchi said approvingly. "Therefore, it will be best if we get the highest turnout possible."

"So let's get to know each other!" Ryuichi chirped, bouncing in his seat. "What could we do, hm? Play a game, go out to eat?"

"Ryuichi…" the redhead sighed.

"Ah, I've got it!" Ryuichi said, jumping to his feet and dashing outside.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Hiro," Suguru murmured to the redhead next to him.

"Is he always like this?" Max asked curiously.

"Run for your life," Hiro deadpanned.

Ryuichi reappeared dragging something into the room, then set himself to hooking several wires up to the TV, humming to himself. After a moment he looked over his shoulder and made a face at everyone watching him. "Talk to each other! You'll know when I'm done."

Quiet conversations slowly started around the table, and Ryou found himself introduced in full to Hiroshi Nakano, Suguru Fujisaki, Tohma Seguchi, and the other blonde who only called himself K. He deflected many questions about the accident and his loss of memory, preferring to listen to them chitchat with his teammates. They talked about the concert and singing, and beyblading, and everything in between.

"Aha!" Ryuichi suddenly declared, flipping a few switches on his machine. Music suddenly blasted out of it, and on the TV screen the words "The Rage Beat" were shown. Ryuichi fished a microphone from behind the machine and offered it, a grin on his face and a sparkle in his eye. "What better way to get to know each other than to sing?"

Hiro's head fell to the table with a dull thunk. "Here we go…"

"I'll do it!" Takao jumped up and retrieved the microphone from Ryuichi.

"I'm out of here," Kai said, standing and leaving without another word. The rest of the beybladers looked between each other, then at the musicians, and a few minutes later they all wished they'd left with Kai.

"Very nice!" Ryuichi grinned, taking back the microphone and holding it out to everyone else at the table. "Who's next?"

The next hour and a half was a very musical one. Poked and prodded (and in Kai's case chased) by the crazed singer, everyone stood and took a turn at the microphone except Ryou, who passed on his turn to someone else every time the microphone was handed to him. In between songs, while Ryuichi was setting up the next one, everyone talked amongst themselves. Ryou found himself drawn into a discussion about guitars with Hiro and Max when Zeo finished his song and relinquished control of the microphone back to Ryuichi.

"And that's almost everyone, I think," the singer mused, looking over at his victims. "I think we've just got one person left! Come on, Ryou!"

The amnesiac scowled at him. "No thank you."

"Come on," Ryuichi whined, clasping his hands in front of him and just _looking_ at Ryou in the same way that he'd gotten Kai to eventually get up and sing, once the reticent beyblader had actually returned to the room (thanks to Ryuichi dragging him back in). Ryou hung his head and sighed.

"You're not going to give up, are you?" he asked plaintively, standing up and reluctantly accepting the microphone from the suddenly eager singer. "If it'll get you to stop, fine. But I warn you, I've never sung before."

"Never say never," Ryuichi said sagely, poking a few buttons on the machine. "Just do your best!"

Ryou looked over at the TV so he could see the words and saw the song title, "Glaring Dream," fade away, replaced by the song lyrics. The music was playing next to him, and he closed his eyes and sighed before opening them and starting to sing. It was by no means a perfect performance, as he'd never heard the song before and was relying solely on the background vocals and lyrics to figure out what he had to sing and how. He fell flat several times and pre-empted the background vocals almost every time, and once the song was over he was quite happy to hand the microphone back to Ryuichi and return to his seat.

"I told you that was a bad idea," he informed the singer as he sank into his seat, his ears burning in embarrassment. "I got used to beyblading in front of people, I've never sung in front of anyone!"

Ryuichi waved his hand at him in between packing up the machine. "You did fine! Just need some more practice and I might have found someone new for Bad Luck!"

"No way." "I don't think so." "Not on your life," Ryou, Suguru, and Hiro said simultaneously. They shot looks at each other, then turned back to Ryuichi. "I mean," Hiro continued, "No offense to Ryou, but he's a beyblader. What would he be able to do as a singer?"

"And I'm horrible, or did you not hear just now?" Ryou grumped. "I think I'll stick with beyblading."

Tohma, at the back of the room, got to his feet, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "Ryuichi may be onto something here," he mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "If we have Ryou sing, it'll draw in more of the beyblading crowd. A lot of people would be interested in hearing a beyblader sing, as long as he can at least carry a basic tune."

"But what if I don't want to sing?" Ryou sighed, leaning back in his chair.

Max nudged him. "I think you'd do fine," his adopted brother sing-songed.

"And Takao would jump on this without hesitation," Rei added, his voice carrying the appropriate hint. Takao, next to him, nodded absently. He was currently trying to stare down Kai and losing horribly.

"But if you don't want to, I suppose we can ask Takao to do it," Tohma mused. "A singing beyblader might be enough to draw the crowds, even if it isn't Ryou specifically…"

Ryou threw his head back with a disgusted sigh. "Fine! If it'll spare the world from having to hear Takao sing I guess I can."

"Good!" Tohma beamed. "Ryuichi, take Ryou to one of the soundstages. I'll trust you with his vocal training."

Ryou stared at him, but found himself being hauled up by an enthusiastic singer. "Let's go, Ryou!"

All the amnesiac could do was sigh.


	9. Chapter 8

Warnings and Disclaimer are in the first chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

The next two months leading up to the concert were a frenzy of activity for Ryou. Every day he would go to NG studios, sometimes with his teammates and sometimes without, and endure Ryuichi as he practiced and practiced singing. After his singing lessons he'd meet up with his friends and teammates wherever they'd ended up. Sometimes they'd be just practicing at Takao's house, and sometimes Bad Luck's manager would drag them off for some promotional activities for the concert. He could hardly speak after his lessons with Ryuichi, so those made for interesting photo shoots or interviews or whatever else K could think of to inflict on unsuspecting beybladers.

The night before the concert arrived far too quickly for Ryou. He was, for once, not being forced to sing for Ryuichi. Instead he was at NG studios with Ryuichi and the rest of Bad Luck, discussing which songs, exactly, Ryou would sing.

"The flyers have all been printed up, but don't let that worry you, Ryou," Suguru assured him, sorting through the sheet music scattered across their table. "All it says is that there's a special guest singer, without a list of songs."

"So if you decide that you can't sing one of the songs, just let one of us know," Hiro said. "We can play any of the songs here."

"We've practiced all of them," Ryou agreed, looking over one of the songs. "Are there any that you'd recommend?"

Ryuichi hummed, tapping three songs against the table. "How about these?" the singer offered, playing with Kumagoro's ear and offering the folded sheets of paper. "I was going to sing them, but I think Shuichi would want you to."

Ryou took the songs and flipped through them. They were very familiar, three of the five songs he'd talked to Ryuichi about initially. They'd decided last week to have him only do three songs, and he'd been trying to decide which ones. "Rage Beat, Glaring Dream, and In the Moonlight?" he asked.

"In that order," Ryuichi agreed. "They're great for opening, and I think you can handle them. What do you think?"

"Yeah. We've practiced them a lot, too." Ryou read the words he'd gotten very familiar with over the last two months. "I think we'll go ahead and stick with these three. I'm less likely to screw them up."

"Very good then!" Ryuichi said. "I'll leave you two to do whatever!" He bounced up, Kumagoro in hand, and grinned at Ryou. "Let's go shopping!"

Ryou just looked at him blankly, songs still in his hand. "What?"

"You can't get up on stage looking like that!" Ryuichi tsked, ruffling his hair. The amnesiac bat his hand away with a scowl. "We need to get you a new set of clothes!"

"I like my clothes," Ryou grumbled, but he'd learned that arguing with the singer was a futile endeavor over the past two months. With a sigh he stood and let himself be dragged off.

In a nearby department store an hour later he was secured in a dressing room, Ryuichi tossing him clothes over the door. Several of the garments he tossed right back.

"I am NOT wearing anything that shows my stomach," he said hotly through the door, his fingers working on the buttons of a floral print shirt. "No matter how many shirts you throw at me, it is. Not. Happening."

"It's a good look though!" Ryuichi protested.

"I told you no." He took a good look at himself in the mirror and shrugged off the shirt. "This pair of black khakis is good. Can you find me a shirt to go with it?" He threw the floral print shirt back over the top of the door and caught a black short-sleeved shirt, which he immediately tossed back. "I need sleeves, Ryuichi."

"It's going be hot on stage. You need something to help keep you cool!" the singer told him, tossing the shirt again. "It's got sequins around the collar, very nice!"

"I don't want my arms showing," Ryou said firmly. "Not my arms, stomach, or legs, okay?"

"Well, what if we got you a jacket to go with that?" Ryou could hear Ryuichi humming, and then he was besieged by a wad of clothing from over the top of the door. "You stay right there, I'll be right back!"

Ryou rolled his eyes but set about untangling the shirts. One violet one caught his eye, with black and silver rhinestones running down the front in a thin line, slightly off-center to the left. It was short-sleeved, but it had a collar with small silver gems in the corners. He tried it on and found himself liking it when it was tucked into the hem of the black khakis. If Ryuichi came back with a good jacket he thought he could get out of the store and home for a good night's sleep.

"Back!" Ryuichi's voice declared. "Did you find a shirt?"

"Yeah," Ryou called back. He tossed the rejected shirts over the door and braced himself for the inevitable wad of coats. Instead only a single jacket was sailing at him. This one was a long coat, just cloth with a thin lining, black in color with violet trim. He found, putting it on, that it matched the shirt very well. He scrutinized himself in the mirror, then pulled on his normal gloves and opened the dressing room door. "Well? What do you think?"

Ryuichi grinned. "I think that's perfect. Now get undressed!" He dumped the pile of clothes on a nearby salesperson and picked up Kumagoro, humming contentedly. Ryou rolled his eyes but did as he was told, carefully folding each article of clothing so that the price tags were showing. He winced as he mentally added the total, but knew that no matter how much he tried Ryuichi would insist on buying him the clothes. It was better to just grin and bear it.

"All done?" Ryuichi asked when Ryou emerged from the dressing room, fully dressed and clothes in hand. "Then let's go! We have to be at the concert hall early tomorrow, so we need to get home and get to bed!" Kumagoro traded hands, and Ryou studied the pink bunny critically while Ryuichi dashed off to the checkouts. It was a normal rabbit plushie, so he wondered what fascination the singer could have had with it.

"Time to go!" Ryuichi announced, pushing several shopping bags into Ryou's hands and taking back Kumagoro. "Need a ride home?"

"Please?" Ryou asked sheepishly. His bike was back at NG studios so he'd been wondering how he'd get back home.

. . . . . . .

The next day Ryou woke up bright and early, grabbed his shopping bags and Drasonet, and found his bike had mysteriously shown up on his doorstep sometime during the night. He left far earlier than Max and Mr. Mizuhara, needing the extra time to get to the concert hall. His adopted father and brother would take the train, something which, a year after the tragic wreck, still left him feeling uneasy.

The day leading up to the concert was the most hectic of Ryou's life, but finally the time for the concert arrived. He stood backstage with Max and Zeo, chewing nervously on his glove in his new clothes, while Tohma was onstage with some speech he was too nervous to listen to. Now that it was time, and he was ready to go onstage and sing, he was wondering why he'd agreed to this in the first place. His bitbeast was in his pocket, and Ryou could feel his protective predatory nature, something which helped him calm down just a little.

"And here's our special singing guest tonight. Please welcome Ryou Mizuhara!" Tohma's voice echoed around him. Ryou took a deep breath, smoothed the worse for wear glove, and walked onto the stage amidst applause and cheering. Tohma smiled at him and offered him the microphone, which he took with a slight feeling of déjà vu. He took another deep breath and spoke into the microphone, smiling a little bit.

"Hi everyone. Mr. Seguchi did a great job of introducing me. We all know what we're here for, right?" He looked down, away from the crowds and the bright lights. "I'm supposed to say something about the wreck, and what happened during it and how I felt. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I can't remember," he said sheepishly. "I can tell you about what happened after, though. I woke up in the hospital without my memory, but I was badly injured. I was very scared, and it was thanks to Dr. Janet Fraiser that I was able to recover from my injuries. I'm also thankful to Mr. Mizuhara and Max, who took me in when I had nowhere to go." He looked back at the crowds and smiled a bit. "After that, Max introduced me to beyblading, and I almost won the World Championships. But it couldn't have happened without everyone who was there to help me recover from my injuries, and now I'm here to help other victims of the crash." He bowed deeply. "I apologize for inflicting my voice on you all."

With that short speech he looked back at Hiro, who nodded encouragingly, and then at Ryuichi hiding just out of sight of the audience, ready to take over if he couldn't do it. Suguru whispered encouragement at him, and he inhaled deeply, held it for a moment and let it out in a rush. Hiro took that as a sign that Ryou was ready and struck the first chords of "The Rage Beat."

Singing in front of thousands of people was a more personal experience than Ryou had expected. Lungs filling to better belt out sounds, the light nearly blinding him in its intensity, and his own body moving almost without him realizing it, all came together for Ryou for him to realize just how someone could do something like this. It was a thrilling experience for him, and after the first verse he completely forgot about the fact that he was singing in front of everyone, that he probably couldn't sing very well at all. He could feel the music in his very bones, and it only prompted him to sing louder.

The end of the song came as a shock to him, and he looked around a bit bewildered as the last notes faded into oblivion. He didn't expect the rush of sound that nearly knocked him off his feet, and he could only stare at the crowd that had apparently liked his singing. "Ah, thanks," was all he could say, looking back at Hiro at bit at a loss. "Are you ready for the next one?"

A wave of sound.

"Then let's get going!"

It was Suguru's turn to start the song, and Ryou launched into it with a lot more confidence than before. "Glaring Dream" was one of Shuichi's big hits, he remembered, and he did his best to do it justice for the singer's sake. At the same time, something odd stirred in him. With every note, he felt like there was something he should know, something that stayed just out of reach. During one instrumental section he looked out at the crowd and saw a tall blonde man at the front who was just staring at him with the most forlorn look on his face. All he could do was smile at the man apologetically as his turn to sing came up again. With the end of the song he felt like he was missing something important, but that didn't matter, because Hiro was already starting the next song.

"This next song," he said quietly, as the guitar reverberated around him, "will be my last. I'd like to dedicate it to Shuichi's friends and family."

And then he was just singing, the lyrics of "In the Moonlight" rolling off his tongue with far more familiarity than only one hard month of practicing should have accounted for. He became so enraptured in the song that he forgot that he was just a beyblader singing for charity, that he shouldn't have been able to sing anyway. In those few minutes he became the music, let it flow through him and into the air around him, and he felt every emotion behind those words and notes.

The song ended far too quickly, despite being the longest of the three songs he'd had to sing. After, he just held the microphone loosely in his hands, staring blankly at the stage in front of him. It took Ryuichi patting him on the shoulder to shake him from his reverie, and he gave an uncertain smile before forfeiting the microphone and retreating backstage. All he knew as he sat down in a chair was that he felt somehow hollow. With the songs over, it seemed like something was missing in him, and he wondered what could cause those feelings.

Max noticed his mood and came over, crouching next to him. "Hey, buddy, you okay?" he asked, concerned.

Ryou nodded, then shook his head. "I'm not sure. It's strange…"

"Want to talk about it?" his adopted brother wanted to know. "We're not due to beyblade for a few minutes, there's time."

The amnesiac shook his head and smiled, though he knew even Max would tell it was forced. "I'll be okay for the match. I think it's just relief that it's over with," he lied.

Max was unconvinced, he saw, but nodded. "Okay, but remember, you can talk to me."

"I'm fine, honest. Do we know the lineup yet?" Ryou wondered, changing the subject easily.

"Yeah. I decided I wanted to take on Takao this time, so Zeo's going against Rei. That leaves you with Kai, and from what Takao told us, he'll be the last up. That means you get to watch us win first!" Max said mischievously. "So don't worry, okay?"

"I won't," Ryou promised.

It came time for the match in no time at all, and Ryou found himself walking back onto the stage, where a dish had been set up. Takao, Rei, and Kai were already there, and he stood with Max and Zeo opposite them still feeling slightly unhinged. He tried to shake it off and focus on the match, but it had sunk its claws deep into him and wouldn't let go.

Somehow they'd gotten the same announcer, DJ, to referee this match as well, and he stood unfazed under the bright spotlights in all his leather glory. "Are we all ready for this charity beyblade match?" he hollered to the crowd. He was met by a lot of screaming, which only brought a smile to his face. "Then let's get going! In a stunning rematch, Team Gravity, with tonight's guest of honor Ryou Mizuhara, are facing off once again against the Bladebreakers! They lost against this same team at the World Championships, but now they once again have the chance the claim the title of World's best!"

Another round of cheers.

"Then let's get started! Teams, send up your first players!"

Zeo and Rei took their places at the dish and launched on DJ's command. It was a short but fierce match, both beyblades not giving an inch, but finally Zeo emerged victorious. Then it was Max and Takao's turn. It was a one-sided fight, Max weathering the blows like the pro he was but unfortunately falling victim to overconfidence. He grinned at Takao as he retrieved his blade, though, and the two talked animatedly off to the side, probably discussing the match. They'd get Kyouju's feedback on it later, as their tech was unfortunately holed up in his room with some long-neglected homework.

It was finally Ryou's turn, and he took his place at the dish opposite Kai with only a bit of trepidation. He hadn't fought Kai very much in their practice matches, so this would really be a challenge for him.

"Are you both ready?" DJ asked them, to which they responded positively. "All right then! Three, two, one, let it rip!"

Drasonet landed eagerly in the middle of the stage, ready for the battle. Dranzer wasted no time in gunning for him, and Ryou fell into his usual match mindset, though it took more effort than he was used to. He was still deeply unsettled, and his lack of concentration was reflected in Drasonet's performance. The spider reacted slower than usual, taking hits that he should have been able to avoid. It was one hit that nearly knocked him out that drew Ryou back into the match, and he shook his head to clear it before focusing on the game. He called Drasonet back, to go on the defensive, and the spider did as he was asked, falling to the center of the dish and taking up his normal defensive position. Ryou watched Dranzer's moves carefully, impassively analyzing them, and after a moment he thought he had Kai's attack pattern down. That meant it was time to go on the offensive.

Drasonet ducked to the side suddenly, letting Dranzer careen past him, and then turned to chase the phoenix bit beast. He managed to get in a few small hits before Ryou called him back, not willing to press his luck. Kai glared at him from across the dish but said nothing, only coached Dranzer quietly from the sidelines. Ryou noticed that Kai was much like him, not needing to give Dranzer verbal prompting for the bit beast to act. They danced around like that for a long while, until it seemed Kai had finally had enough of all these games.

"Dranzer!" the other player yelled. "Come on out and let's show him who he's messing with!"

And the bit beast did just that, a shrill shriek piercing the air as the bird appeared. That scream stopped Ryou cold in the middle of calling out Drasonet, the sound piercing him deeper than anything he'd ever thought possible, right into that well of emptiness left by the songs. For a moment he forgot to breathe, a fear so great filling him, and in the back of his mind he heard that scream echoed by something else, something equally inhuman. He let out his breath with a shocked whimper, falling to his knees and covering his head. He didn't know what was frightening him so, but it was a reaction he couldn't help. Drasonet, he only vaguely registered, was knocked soundly out of the stage and off into the crowd somewhere, but he couldn't bring himself to worry about that. The shriek came again, Dranzer's victory cry, and he flinched, sinking deeper into himself, trying to get away from that horrible fear. He vaguely registered a frightened scream in the back of his mind, but it didn't matter, not when this nameless threat was trying to tear him apart.

He heard people talking to him, the crowd roaring, but he couldn't pay any attention to that. After a moment he felt hands on him, touches that he flinched away from, drawing him up from his crouch and off the stage. Aside from those initial starts he didn't react to anyone, staring off into space, not really seeing the small room he was led into backstage, not registering the words that were being spoken to him. He whimpered a bit and flinched away when a hand touched his forehead, but there was nothing else, and he was left alone with his fear. He turned it around in his head, this primal fear that had him so helpless, and it was as if something in him had broken. All he had was fleeting impressions, of flame and fear, of a horrible knowledge that left him frozen in place.

Just when he thought it'd never end, that he'd be stuck trapped in this fear, there was a light, a break in the shadows. A voice, one at once familiar and alien, dragged him out of the abyss of fear and emptiness. Without really registering what he was doing he was out of his seat and clinging to the source of his light, sobbing a name he didn't realize he knew. This light, this person… Their presence was enough to banish the fear, the fire that tried to claim him, and it was such a relief that he felt he could be forgiven for surrendering, at last, to a blissful sleep.

. . . . . . .

Doctor Janet Frasier, a special guest to the memorial concert, finished checking up on the slumbering form in the hotel bed. Ryou's face was far from peaceful, caught up in dreams only he would ever know, and he twisted away from her touch in a way he never had in the hospital. However, there was nothing wrong with him physically, so with a sigh she straightened and turned around to where Max and Mr. Mizuhara were waiting impatiently.

"I'm glad you had this hotel room," she said first, looking around the small room that could have been in any hotel in America. "I don't know how Ryou would have reacted to waking up in a hospital, which is where I would have taken him otherwise."

"What happened?" Mr. Mizuhara asked worriedly. "Will he be okay?"

"As far as I can tell, there's nothing wrong with him. Whatever's going on with him is just in his head, and I'm not an expert in that." Janet frowned worriedly. "Although…"

"What?" Max wanted to know.

The doctor shook her head. "It's too early to say. Let's just let him sleep and see what's going on in the morning. Will one of you be staying with him?"

The two traded looks. "Ryou was going to be staying here by himself," the elder Mizuhara admitted. "I thought it'd be too late after the concert for him to take his bike home, so I wanted him to spend the night here and come home in the morning. I have to open the shop early tomorrow, and I was counting on Max to help me."

"What about one of your friends? I'd really rather not have him by himself tonight."

Max gestured to the door. "They're all waiting downstairs to hear how Ryou is. I'm sure one of them wouldn't mind."

Downstairs, the lobby was deserted aside from an assortment of beybladers, Ryuichi, and the blonde man in whose arms Ryou had passed out. He'd been introduced as Eiri Yuki by Ryuichi, but so far all he'd done was sit in the corner and glower, as far as Janet could tell.

As soon as Janet appeared in the lobby she found herself to be mobbed by a group of anxious teens and Ryuichi. She waited until they'd stopped asking her questions before she relayed Ryou's status to them. After she was done, she asked, "Is there anyone who can stay with him tonight? I can't tell what's going on in his head, but I don't want him to be alone just in case he wakes up disoriented. "

The beybladers turned to discuss amongst themselves, while Ryuichi wandered over to the corner and latched himself onto Yuki's arm, whispering something urgently in the blonde's ear. Janet was interested in what they were talking about, but forced herself to look away. It was none of her business. She just hoped they would decide amongst themselves soon, as Mr. Mizuhara, upstairs with Ryou for the moment, had made it clear that he needed to get home soon.

Just when it looked like no one would be volunteering a voice shocked them all into silence. "I'll stay." Everyone turned to look at Yuki, who was glowering at Ryuichi but had come out of the corner. He caught their gazes and frowned. "What? You all obviously have things you need to do, and I can finish my book here just as easily as at home."

"You just don't seem the type," Max said quietly, staring at him wide-eyed.

Yuki glared at them. "As long as he doesn't snore or anything there's no problem. Now drop it before I change my mind."

That caused them all to nod agreeably, though they shot secret looks at Ryuichi. The same thing was going through all their minds: Just what kind of power did the singer have to be able to convince Yuki to do something he obviously didn't want to do?

"Well, that's all settled then," Janet said matter-of-factly. "I'll show you upstairs and give you my number. Just give me a call when he wakes up, and I'm sure Mr. Mizuhara would like a call as well."

Yuki said nothing, just adjusted the laptop case Janet was certain he hadn't come with, so Janet led him upstairs to Ryou's room. Mr. Mizuhara was sitting on the bed next to his adopted son, running a hand through the boy's hair just like Janet had seen with countless other fathers and sons. She didn't say anything about it, instead just clearing her throat to let Mr. Mizuhara know she was there. The older man looked up at her with a small smile.

"I found someone to watch him tonight," Janet said kindly. "This is Eiri Yuki. He's the one that finally got your son calmed down, and he's volunteered to stay with him until he wakes up."

"Aren't you a writer?" Mr. Mizuhara asked doubtfully.

"I promise you that Yuki is a good choice," Janet said firmly. "Ryou didn't calm down until Yuki came to return his beyblade, and I've seen a reaction like that in many soldiers that I've treated. They don't relax and calm down until they get someplace that they know is safe, and sometimes that place is a person. So I think that whatever Ryou was going through, somehow he knew Yuki. This might be a good sign!" she finished optimistically.

"All right, if you say so…" Mr. Mizuhara stood and crossed to the small table under the window, which held the standard hotel fare like brochures, the telephone, and a pad of paper and a pen. "I'll give you all of my numbers, so please let me know when Ryou wakes up, no matter what time it is. Once my help comes in tomorrow I'll have Max come and relieve you." He scribbled the numbers along with various notes and handed them to Janet, who added her own number to the sheet. "Thank you for doing this for me."

Yuki accepted the small square of paper, then looked over at the form in the bed. "It's nothing," he said shortly, walking past them and setting his laptop on the desk. "I'm just as curious as you are."


	10. Chapter 9

Warnings and Disclaimer are in the first chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Ryou woke up the next morning feeling well-rested but at the same time at a bit of a loss. He stayed in bed for a few moments, going over the events of the previous night. He couldn't remember getting into bed the night before, so he was understandably confused. The last thing he remembered was battling Kai, and then he'd summoned Dranzer…

Ryou clenched his fist in the sheet as the memory of his panic attack came back to him, and he scowled in embarrassment. He felt silly that he'd lost his cool in public, and now the memory of what had set him off was fuzzy. He rolled it over in his head for a few minutes before sighing and getting up. It was morning, and he had to get up and get back home before Mr. Mizuhara got worried about him. It was only after he'd gotten up that he realized that he hadn't brought a change of clothes, and he'd slept in the pants and short-sleeved shirt from the concert. It bothered him a bit, that someone had seen his scars, but without knowing who it was there was nothing he could do. He decided to take a shower and gathered the rest of his clothes from where they'd been stashed, then headed into the bathroom and locked the door.

He emerged from the bathroom feeling a lot better than before, fully dressed except for his gloves, which were tucked into his pocket while he finished towel drying his hair. After he was satisfied with his progress he tossed the towel onto the bed and finger-combed his hair, then went in search of his beyblade. Drasonet was on the nightstand, to his relief, and he silently assured his worried friend that he was all right. With that taken care of he put on his gloves, picked up the key card from on top of the television, and left the room, intent on soothing his rumbling stomach and checking out of the hotel. A glance at the clock told him it was still early enough for the lobby to be serving breakfast.

He made it to the elevator without incident and settled against the back wall after punching the button for the lobby. It was a long and silent ride until he reached the bottom and the doors opened, revealing a familiar blonde bearing a plate of Western breakfast items like toast and waffles. Ryou blinked, a surprised "Yuki!" escaping from his throat before his brain caught up to events and he realized a very important fact.

"Good morning," Yuki said evenly, stepping into the elevator and allowing the doors to close behind him.

"Good morning," Ryou parroted. "I know you," he added as an afterthought, his brain working to try to figure out how.

That statement didn't receive a response. "I brought you breakfast," Yuki said instead. "I already ate."

"Ah. Thanks."

There was an awkward silence after that, Ryou fidgeting in the presence of the other's cool blankness. The doors opened on the right floor and the teen led the way to his room, sliding his key in the door and holding it open for Yuki. After the blonde was inside and Ryou shut the door, he asked, "Why are you here?"

Yuki set the plate down on the desk and extracted a fork and a spoon wrapped in a napkin from his jacket pocket. From the other pocket he revealed butter and syrup, and after he'd set that on the desk he turned to Ryou. "Your father asked me to stay here with you last night." He tilted his head and asked, "Do you remember what happened?"

Ryou nodded. "A little bit. I think I remembered the accident during the match, and I panicked. Then you showed up and I knew you! The next thing I remember is waking up here alone. I didn't even know someone else had been here…"

"My apologies. I was supposed to be here when you awakened." Yuki stepped away from the desk and waved for Ryou to come, and the hungry teen gladly did so. The blonde took a seat on the nearest bed while Ryou turned his chair so he could look at Yuki while he ate. He didn't waste any time in digging into the food, while Yuki pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number from a piece of paper. Not wanting to be rude, Ryou focused his attention on his plate, instead concentrating on what he could remember of Yuki. Aside from the distinct feeling of knowing the blonde, however, there was a notable lack of anything concrete. All he could dredge from his shattered memories was the smell of tobacco and a feeling of comfort and warmth, the same feelings he'd had last night at Yuki's appearance.

"Doctor Frasier is on her way," Yuki said, just as Ryou was finishing his waffles. "Max will be coming around 11 if you haven't left to go home by then."

"Thanks," Ryou said sincerely, leaning back in his chair and stretching. "So, tell me. Do you know me?"

"That depends," Yuki replied. "What do you remember about me?"

Ryou told him what little he knew, and talking about it stirred more memories in him, of times spent in a dimly lit living room that smelled of tobacco smoke, of Yuki admonishing him but making him feel happy despite it. It helped to talk to Yuki, to tell him these things, more than he realized it would, and by the time he finished he was breathless but oddly happy. It felt good, he realized, and the pit that had been inside him was no longer cold and empty, devoid of his memories. Now he could feel there was something warm there, but it was just out of reach.

"It looks like you're well on your way to recovery," Janet's voice spoke up. Both men turned to look at her, neither having heard her arrival. "It's looking like your memory loss was just as we thought it was, post-traumatic stress. With what happened last night, it's looking like your memories are starting to recover." She set her bag on the bed and opened it, revealing a familiar but hated object. "Now look straight ahead for me, okay?"

Ryou rolled his eyes but complied, enduring the Penlight of Doom with a resigned sigh. After that Janet checked his pulse and his breathing, then asked him some basic questions, the same as she had several times during his stay in the hospital. He answered every one correctly, and after Janet seemed satisfied that Ryou was okay.

"Any problems during the night?" the doctor asked, turning to Yuki as she put her instruments away. "Did you even sleep?"

"I stay up all night on a regular basis," Yuki said evenly. "As far as last night, there were no problems. He tossed and turned a bit but as far as I can tell there were no nightmares."

Janet nodded. "So do you know Ryou, then, like we thought?"

Yuki frowned and looked away. "It's hard to say. How much did you hear?"

"Most of it, I think."

"I see. Then I think Ryuichi may have been right all along." He scowled for no reason Ryou could think of.

"You mean," Ryou said, thinking back to his encounter with the singer those many months ago, "you think I'm Shuichi Shindou."

"It's a possibility," Yuki allowed. "But I'm not going to hope until I have proof."

"The proof'll be easy to get!" Janet said brightly. "Shuichi's family is still alive, right?"

Yuki nodded.

"Then get a DNA comparison done. It'll show pretty quickly whether they're related or not."

"And what should I do until then?" Ryou asked, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

"Go back to Mr. Mizuhara and Max. As your doctor I'm ordering bed rest for the next few days. That means no beyblading," Janet warned. "Even if you don't feel it, your body endured a terrible shock last night. I'll stay in town a few more days, I can get the leave time. That should be long enough to get the DNA results, if I order the test right when I get back. Speaking of which…" She pulled out a small tube, which she popped the top off of, revealing a cotton swab. "Open up!"

Ryou obligingly opened his mouth so Janet could swipe the inside of his cheek. "Now go home. Relax. That's an order."

"Yes, ma'am," Ryou replied. He turned to Yuki and gave the older man a small smile. "Thanks for looking after me."

Yuki shrugged. "You can thank Ryuichi. He made me do it."

Ryou's smiled turned into a full grin, and he teased, "He didn't make you bring me breakfast."

Janet chuckled. "Your dad took your bike home with him, so I'll drop you off on my way back to my hotel. Why don't you go check out of the room while you're waiting for me?"

Ryou nodded agreeably and, with a last look at Yuki, he collected his card key.

He spent the ride home in silence, keeping his eyes on the scenery outside of the car, not really feeling like engaging Janet in conversation. As he rode he was thinking about everything and nothing, fragments of memories drifting into awareness the more he tried not to think about them. He didn't try to make sense out of them, preferring to focus instead on the ride. The ride home was uneventful, and he bid Janet farewell, thanked her for the ride, and entered the store, quickly locating Max and Mr. Mizuhara. His adopted brother was manning the register while his dad was down one aisle, talking animatedly to a customer. Max handed back some money and looked up automatically at the door opening, breaking out into a wide grin when he saw Ryou.

"Hey!" the blonde called, bouncing out from behind the counter and glomping his brother. "Yuki called us, said you were okay, but I was still worried. How're you feeling?"

"Fine," Ryou assured him. "Janet looked me over and said I was okay. She said I had to rest for the next few days while she does some tests."

"What kind of tests?" Mr. Mizuhara asked, coming up behind the boys while the customers he'd been helping talked amongst themselves. He ruffled Ryou's hair and grinned at the two boys as he spoke.

Ryou shrugged. "She and Yuki think they figured out who I was. She took a DNA sample to run some tests."

"Do you know who?" Max queried. He looked thoughtful and a bit disappointed, and it made Ryou curious, but instead of asking about it he shook his head.

"I'm not going to get my hopes up," he shrugged. "We'll know in a few days, and until then, she said I'm not allowed to beyblade or anything. Bed rest, she called it, so I suppose I should get in bed?"

"You can watch the register and give Max a break," Mr. Mizuhara said instead. "It's slowing down now, so it shouldn't be too busy. As long as you're sitting that should count as rest!"

Ryou chuckled but couldn't deny the logic. "As long as you don't mind me borrowing the laptop!"

. . . . . . .

Ryou spent the next few days at home, following Janet's instructions dutifully. Bad Luck's music echoed around him as he went through his daily routine, interspersed with replays of his own performance and subsequent breakdown. He watched them every time he came on, studying his own features, then went online and found clips of Shuichi when Max and Mr. Mizuhara weren't around. It was hard to find time to himself, though, with his friends and teammates coming and going to hang out with him. They probably thought he was bored, what with being cooped at home, but the reality was that he was too preoccupied to be bored. After several renditions of the original "Rage Beat" and then his own performance he eventually admitted that they sounded similar, though not exactly the same. It was on the third day, when he'd moved on to "Glaring Dream" and then eventually "In the Moonlight", that he began to think that he could probably be Shuichi after all.

He stared at his computer screen, then the TV. He'd synched up the tape of his performance with a tape of Shuichi's original performance and was watching them dispassionately, trying to think of the two people on the screen as someone besides him. It was easier to see the similarities in the two performances then. The body language, the voice, the hand gestures…

He'd unconsciously mimicked Shuichi with all of it. Even though he'd never seen a performance of Shuichi's during his training. Ryuichi had been adamant about him not seeing anything with Shuichi in it, had said that he didn't want to poison Ryou unnecessarily. Now he could really see why Ryuichi had kept him and Shuichi apart. The singer had wanted to if Ryou had performed like Shuichi, and, seeing the performances side by side, he couldn't deny that it had happened. Not to mention that, with whatever had been blocking his memory suddenly gone, every rendition of the songs brought forward some obscure memory. A phrase in an unknown voice here, an image of Tokyo at night there, all adding up to what Janet, shortly after, might or might not confirm.

He shut off the music after Janet arrived, dreading what news she brought. With her was Yuki and Tohma, the latter blond explaining his presence away as business interest. Ryou had a sneaking suspicion that he was really there as moral support for Yuki. They convened in the kitchen, Yuki and Tohma on one side of the table with Max, Mr. Mizhuara, and Ryou opposite. Janet sat facing everyone else.

"Well, the tests are in," Janet announced when everyone was settled. She toyed with a manila folder on the table in front of her, sliding it back and forth. "I wonder how Maury can do this so often," she muttered to herself in English, Max whispering the translation to the only non-English speaker in the group. Ryou didn't know who Maury was but Yuki and Tohma seemed to, as they nodded with her. "Well, I guess you can just see for yourself," she decided, sliding the folder over to Ryou. He took it and stared at it for a moment, fear and curiosity warring with each other within his mind. After a moment he took a deep breath, then locked eyes with Max and Mr. Mizuhara in turn. They smiled encouragingly at him, and that gave him the courage to open the folder.

_Positive_.

That was the impression he got immediately upon gazing at the piece of paper before him. Lots of highlights in green, he saw, but he ignored those in favor of reading the summary at the top aloud.

"'The sample presented for testing, identified as that of one Ryou Mizuhara, was compared to that of Mr. and Mrs. Shindou. It has been determined that Ryou is the biological child of the two parents.'" He spoke these words to a silent room, blinking back tears as he said the last two. "I guess I really am Shuichi, then."

"Good for you!" Max said, hugging Ryou tightly. "Now you know who you are!"

Mr. Mizuhara joined the hug, squeezing both boys. "Aren't you glad, Ryou? Now you can go back to your real family!"

Ryou leaned into the dual embrace, shamelessly taking their support. He wasn't glad, not really. Now that he knew who he'd been, he'd have to leave his new family. He knew this without having to ask. Shuichi… He wasn't a teenager like they'd thought. He was a young man, and the government wouldn't pay for him to stay with the Mizuharas anymore, as they had been when he'd been a foster child. He didn't realize he was crying until he felt a hand against his wet cheek and looked up.

"What's wrong?" Yuki asked quietly, locking gazes with him, piercing brown against amethyst. The man's expression wasn't warm, to be sure, but it still comforted Ryou all the same for some unknown reason.

Ryou sniffled. "I'm Shuichi, aren't I? That means I'm an adult. What am I going to do if I can't stay with Max anymore?" he confessed.

"You can stay as long as you'd like," Mr. Mizuhara affirmed. "Even if you're not biologically mine, I still consider you a son. We've been making enough from the shop and the beyblade tournaments even without government help."

Ryou buried his face in his adopted father's chest, silently thanking the man even as his voice was lost to the remnants of his tears. Max extracted himself from the hug and offered to make them all tea, an offer that was gratefully accepted by all. Tohma withdrew to the living room with Janet. That left Ryou, Mr. Mizuhara, and Yuki relatively alone in the kitchen, with Max an abnormally silent presence nearby.

"Sorry about that," the raven-haired male said after a moment, sitting back from his adopted dad and wiping his eyes. "I was just overwhelmed."

"I'll go talk with Janet, see what she wants to do now," Mr. Mizuhara said kindly. "You'll be okay here?"

Ryou nodded.

"All right. Call me if you need me."

With that, Ryou was left alone with Yuki.

Taking a breath, Ryou turned to the blonde. "I read about you and Shuichi," he said, deciding not to beat around the bush. "Er, you and me, I guess."

Yuki said nothing, only moving to take a seat opposite Ryou.

"It said that you and he were together."

"That's correct." Yuki's voice was cold, a chill that Ryou somehow knew meant that the man was waiting for a blow to fall. He resisted the urge to shiver, instead looking down at the tablecloth and collecting his thoughts.

"I'm not Shuichi anymore," he said slowly. "I don't remember him, not yet anyway. But I do remember you. And I know you were important to me, to him, whatever." He scowled. "It's hard to describe. But I can't just pick up where you and he left off."

"But you are remembering him," Yuki prompted. Neither of them noticed as Max set down mugs of tea in front of them and discreetly made his way into the living room, but Yuki did reach out to cup the ceramic.

"Yeah. In bits and pieces, and it's not making much sense. So anyway, what I'm saying is, I'm not ready to resume Shuichi's relationship with you," Ryou declared. He could see the hurt in Yuki's eyes, so small that had he not known what to look for he would have missed it, and continued. "But I am willing to get to know you again.

"I see." Yuki took a sip of tea. "That's more than I was expecting, actually."

"Huh?" At a loss for words, Ryou could only stare at the other man.

"I expected that you'd tell me you found someone else and couldn't possibly have a relationship with me, that you'd moved on. Something like that, melodramatic like a bad romance novel," Yuki said dismissively. "Life has a tendency to imitate art like that."

Ryou couldn't help his giggle. "You write romance novels!"

Yuki said nothing to that. Instead he set the tea aside and looked at Ryou, as if to try and pick his brain with just his eyes. "What will you do, now that you know?"

"That is a good question," Tohma's voice interrupted them. They both looked up to see the blonde music producer had returned. "Now that your former identity is confirmed, there is a matter of your music career. Ryuichi never intended to take over Bad Luck permanently. He was only to be there until we found a new lead singer. Therefore, it would be desirable for you to resume your position," Tohma explained.

"I'm not Shuichi anymore, at least not up here," Ryou said a bit crossly, tapping his temple. "Sure, my memory's coming back, but it's not going to magically fix itself. It's not like I'm going to wake up tomorrow and say, 'Hey! I remember everything!' It's just a bit more complicated than that, you know."

"So what are your plans?" Tohma asked curiously. "You do realize that once the news gets around, no one's going to leave you alone."

"Then we just have to make sure the news doesn't get out," Yuki said firmly. "When Ryou's ready, we can hold a press conference to break the news." He looked at the young man in question and got an affirming nod.

"Until then, I just need some time to process this," Ryou said, taking a sip of his forgotten tea. "It's a big shock, after all. Not everyone finds out they used to be a singer that they'd impersonated on stage!"

"I can arrange for you to get anywhere you need to," Tohma said. "Revisiting places like Shuichi's old school should jog your memory, right?"

Ryou nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. But please don't exert yourself for me, Mr. Tohma. I'll figure something out."

"It's no trouble at all. You're free to stop by NG Studios anytime if you need me." He glanced at his watch and stood. "I must be getting back. I wasn't able to cancel all of my meetings today, unfortunately." Tohma smiled at Ryou warmly before leaving the room.

"I must be leaving as well," Yuki said with a scowl. "My editor has been getting on my case about my latest book." He hesitated a moment, then leaned over the table to take Ryou's hand. It caused the raven-haired male to blush a bit, but it felt nice. "I understand what you said before, but if you ever want to stop by, I live in the same apartment. I don't care if you want to come to rant at me, or just say hi, or whatever. You remembered things from talking to me in the hotel, right? Maybe that'll help you again."

"Ah… thanks," Ryou said, too distracted by the warm hand holding his to form much of a reply. "I'll keep that in mind." He took his hand back quickly and stood, saying quickly, "I'm gonna go to Takao's and practice. Thanks for your help."

"It's no problem, really." With that, Yuki gave him a small smile and left.


	11. Chapter 10

Warnings and Disclaimer are in the first chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Ryou spent the next days avoiding anything to do with Shuichi Shindou. Every morning he got up and manned the store, then went to train with Takao until dusk, when he'd drag himself home to eat dinner before going to bed. Reporters stopped by a few times to ask him about what had happened after, Ryou presumed from scanning the newspaper daily, they didn't get any information from the others involved in the concert. Each time that happened someone was there to turn them away, whether it was Mr. Mizuhara claiming that his son didn't need to be harassed or Takao telling people to get off his property or he'd call the cops.

Despite all of this, Ryou found more of Shuichi's memory's creeping up on him every day. It was the little things at first, minor memories that really didn't impact him that much but still served to tell him that his last year of life was a lie. After those few days of avoiding everyone but his friends, however, he began noticing things that, taken separately, wouldn't have been very noticeable.

Given the fact that he had a full-fledged spaz attack over a pack of strawberry pocky one day during practice, Ryou thought that it might be time to stop ignoring the obvious. No matter how hard he'd tried to deny it, his memory was returning and he couldn't deal with it on his own.

It was because of this that he found himself once again at NG studios, staring up at the building with a mixture of trepidation and impatience. He hadn't realized it but he'd been eager to get back to the studio, even as he told himself that he wasn't there to magically become a singer again. He was here for a set reason, and, that firmly in mind, he entered the building and punched the elevator button for the top floor.

Even without an appointment, Ryou noted with amusement, Seguchi Tohma was more than happy to see him. He entered the CEO's office cautiously, casting about for a pink bunny-wielding singer, but to his relief Tohma was alone.

"Welcome, Ryou," the blonde greeted, laying down his pen and smiling warmly at the man in front of him. "What can I do for you today?"

"Sorry for the sudden visit," Ryou murmured, looking away from the other and at the decorations on the wall. Now that he was here he felt rather foolish. "I've been… well, it's hard to describe. It's like déjà vu on an epic scale. So, well…"

"You wanted to talk to someone?" Tohma asked.

"Something like that," Ryou agreed, relieved that he didn't have to explain it. "And I don't think I can take Ryuichi right now."

"He can be a bit of a handful," Tohma mused. "Well, have a seat and let's hear what's on your mind."

At first Ryou was a bit uncomfortable, but Tohma's quiet presence soon had him talking to fill the silence. As it had been with Yuki that first morning, telling Tohma about everything helped him sort it all in his head, and several hours passed without him realizing. It was in the midst of telling the elder blonde about the latest happening involving the strawberry pocky and one Bladebreakers captain glaring evil eyes at him the rest of the day that there was a knock at the door. Ryou paused midsentence, suddenly realizing just how much time he'd taken from the obviously busy CEO.

"Sorry," he said a bit miserably after Tohma called for whoever it was to come in.

"It's quite all right," the other assured, even as Ryuichi popped his head in and surveyed the room critically.

"Ah, Ryou!" the singer chirped, waving Kumagoro's arm in greeting. "I didn't know you were here! You didn't say hi, either. Kumagoro's mad at you! Kumagoro BEAM!"

Ryou yelped and ducked the flying plush before it nailed him in the head. "Sorry!" he cried, hands over his head to fend off any more flying fur. "I won't do it again!"

Ryuichi bounced over and retrieved his plush, smiling brightly. "We forgive you!"

Tohma cleared his throat, though it sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. "What did you need, Ryuichi?"

"Eh?" The singer blinked in confusion before realization dawned on him. "Oh! That mean reporter lady came by again. She's awful mad that you won't comment on Ryou's performance at the concert. I told her to call back next week, is that okay?"

"That's very good, thank you," Tohma said. "And next week please do the same thing."

"All this trouble is because of me, isn't it?" Ryou sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Tohma said sternly. "It's not your fault. Some people just can't take no for an answer."

Ryou tried not to look at Ryuichi.

"Ah, well, I'll let you guys get to work," he said instead, standing. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Tohma."

"Feel free to stop by again anytime," Tohma smiled. "I hope I helped you a little."

"You did, thanks," the beyblader nodded before quickly leaving. It wasn't a lie, either. Talking with Tohma, or rambling at him rather, had helped, and he felt a bit less confused than before. He went home and felt almost normal as he endured Max's teasing about the pocky incident.

He didn't turn down the strawberry pocky Max had gotten for him, either.

. . . . . . .

The next months went easier for Ryou once he'd stopped fighting the obvious. He took Tohma up on his previous offers of help, visiting places he'd once been before his accident. The reporters were circling, however, sniffing close for any story that would explain away the happenings at the concert. This forced Ryou to visit his old haunts in secret, but the anonymity was refreshing. Thanks to the concert everyone knew him now, if not as Shuichi Shindou then as Ryou Mizuhara, and the fame was a bit daunting. It was due to this fame that he had to visit his old high school, his old neighborhood, other places with a hood to hide his shaggy black hair and colored contacts to cover his distinctive violet eyes. It didn't take much for his memory to be jogged now that he wasn't resisting it. Janet was optimistic whenever he talked to her on the phone, in the evening for her and early morning for him. She said to keep doing what he was doing but not to be surprised if there were details he couldn't remember.

During those months he saw everyone but Yuki. With his memories returning his feelings for the blonde novelist were confused, echoes of his prior emotions clouding his thoughts. No matter how hard he thought he couldn't be sure what was remembered and what was current and this had him reluctant to see Yuki again. He didn't want to cause the other man any kind of pain, and so he kept away from him. And, as the time passed while he remembered who Shuichi Shindou had been, he found himself beyblading less and less.

He hadn't realized just how infrequently he was participating in the Bladebreaker's training sessions until he showed up one day at Takao's, Drasonet in hand, and found the house empty save for Grandpa Kinomiya in the dojo. He poked his head in and found the elder man practicing with a wooden sword.

"They're not here," Grandpa said before Ryou could say anything, swinging the sword downwards briskly. "They went to a tournament. Didn't Max tell you?"

"Ah…" Ryou thought back on the last few days. "I've been leaving before Max for the last few weeks and getting back late. I guess I didn't give him a chance."

"Ah well, you've been busy. Come on in, don't stand out in the cold. We haven't caught up, how have things been?" Grandpa asked, never losing his rhythm. The sword swished through the air with every downward stroke.

Ryou shrugged out of his shoes and stepped up onto the cool wood of the dojo, keeping to the wall and out of Grandpa's weapon rage. "Everything's been going well. I've been keeping busy with things, like remembering."

"How's that going for you?" the elder wanted to know. "It seems like it should make things clearer, right?"

"Not really," Ryou shrugged, settling against the wall roughly even with Grandpa. "Things are confusing. It's like, I don't know who I am sometimes, you know?" That came out before he could stop himself, and he paused, then nodded. "Yeah, sometimes I forget if I'm Ryou or Shuichi. I mean, I know I'm Shuichi, I was him, but even though I'm still remembering, it's like he's still a separate person, you know?"

Grandpa nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right. What are you going to do about it? You're Shuichi, but you don't have to be him. You could stay Ryou as long as you want."

"And if I never wanted to be Shuichi again?" Ryou asked semi-bitterly. "I find myself at home tapping out beats sometimes, you know? I'll be sitting at the table and words to a song'll pop into my head, and I'll want to write it. At the same time, I still want to beyblade so much. Drasonet's itching to get back in the dish again, he's going stir-crazy. I feel like I'm being pulled in two different directions and I don't know which way's going to give." He was staring at the ground throughout this, so the bokken to the head came as a total surprise. With a yelp he ducked, hands flying up to rub at his smarting scalp. "What the heck was that for?"

"That's for overthinking things," Grandpa said. "I don't know much about this kind of thing, but I do know that when things get confusing, you stop thinking." He helped Ryou up, then pushed the wooden sword into his hands. "Tell you what. Just start swinging this like I was. Don't think about anything, just be swinging." He stretched, then walked off towards the door into the house. "I'll be in the kitchen when you're done."

Ryou stared after him, then down at the sword in his hands. It was after staring like that for a few moments that, almost without realizing it, he walked into the middle of the room, mimicked Grandpa's stance, and brought the sword down in a sloppy arc. He exhaled sharply with the movement, then inhaled, raised the sword above his head again, and repeated the action. It sent a shock through his muscles but, he found, didn't require much thought. After a few self-conscious strokes he fell into an easy rhythm. This was the first time he'd held a sword so his movements weren't perfect, but they served to put him into an easy trance. He didn't know how long he was there, his world devolving into deep breaths, sweat dripping down his neck and back, arms shaking from exertion. All he knew was that, for the time that he was there, he wasn't Shuichi or Ryou. He just was.

He didn't know how much time passed while he was in the dojo, but when his arm muscles were burning was when he finally surrendered the sword to the rack of weapons against one wall of the dojo. Catching his breath was next on his list, and once that was done he went to the kitchen, where Grandpa was sitting, sipping tea. A cup was sitting out for Ryou and he sat down in the seat, wrapping his hands gratefully around the warm mug. All through this he was feeling pleasantly at peace with himself for the first time since the concert.

"Did you clean up after yourself?" Grandpa asked, sliding the sugar across the table towards Ryou.

"I did, Grandpa. Thanks," Ryou said sincerely.

Nothing more was said between them. Ryou finished his tea, washed his glass, and rode his bike home, where he collapsed into bed bonelessly and was asleep within minutes.

. . . . . . .

After his encounter with Grandpa and his bokken of doom Ryou stopped thinking too hard. He fell into a new routine within a few days once he stopped worrying about his identity crisis. In the mornings he'd wake up and help Mr. Mizuhara in the store. After lunch he'd go to Takao's house, resuming his beyblading practice with renewed vigor. His teammates seemed cheered by his enthusiasm, already talking strategy for the next preliminary tournament. The Bladebreakers were already a shoe-in for the next World Championships, but that left Team Gravity to train alongside them in the hopes of regaining their spot as Japan's representative team.

Ryou trained as hard as any of his teammates, but after a few hours he'd call Drasonet back and take his leave. He wandered around town for the rest of the day, notebook in hand, taking note of anything interesting. No one else saw his notebook, he made sure of it, but in it he had begun jotting down little phrases, things that could be worked into a song. After he'd stopped fighting the random tunes, the beats incessantly coursing through his head, they'd become much more manageable, fun even. He wasn't sure if he'd go back to the life of a singer, but maybe he could sell his songs.

Realistically, he knew that he couldn't stay with the Mizuhara's forever. He was an adult and eventually he'd have to find a source of income. Beyblading professionally brought him in some money when he won, but he always split it with his teammates, leaving little to spend casually, much less live on. He'd looked up the stats on professional beybladers and found that most of them had to supplement their winnings with a proper job, or else lived with other people to pick up the slack. With little in other skills aside from singing, he wasn't sure what he could turn to once he had to leave. It was because of this that he had gone back to songwriting, that and because it was unquestionably fun for him.

Through this the weeks passed. Because he'd stopped focusing on the issue of his memory he didn't notice when it no longer became an issue. He couldn't peg the time and day when his memories completed themselves, when Shuichi Shindou fully became part of him. He didn't even notice until he found himself, at the end of one day, outside of Yuki's apartment. He was reaching for the knob when he realized a few important things. First, he didn't have a key. Second, he didn't live with Yuki anymore. And third…

Exhaling quickly he backed away from the door, suddenly confused. He wanted to see Yuki again, but his old dilemma resurfaced. Was it his current self wanting it, or just his memories from over a year ago? Careful to mask his sounds he sank to the floor, staring at the door mocking him. His peace with himself was shaken now as he glared at the offending piece of wood. After indulging in that for a minute he rested his head on his knees, finally confronting the issue that had bothered him since the beginning.

What were his feelings for Yuki, he asked himself. He still wanted to see him so badly, but he could never be sure if that was because of his former relationship with the novelist. Was it a lingering feeling, one that would fade as he fell into his new life, whatever that would be? Or did he honestly and truly want to see him?

He sat there for a while, wrestling with those feelings, until Grandpa's advice came back to him. Sitting up, he balanced his notebook on his knees and began writing. He didn't think as his pen moved across the paper, forming symbols he purposely didn't recognize. His confusion melted away as he threw himself into that piece of paper. It didn't take him very long to reach the end of the page, but at the end he felt very satisfied with himself. Only after he finished with what he'd written did he dare read what he'd come up with.

With a smile on his face, he knew, then, what he should do. He folded up the song that had appeared on the sheet of paper, knocked several times on Yuki's door, then slipped the bundle under the door.

. . . . . . .

The night wind was chill in the park, Ryou rubbing his arms through the thin sleeves of his shirt. It was cold for the time of year and he didn't have a jacket, something he was coming to regret.

He wasn't regretting where he'd come, however. The park was still the same after all this time, the bench facing out towards the city, the lampposts lighting the way. It was calm, serene even, just as it had been on that fateful night what seemed like a lifetime ago. He thought it'd be a good place for a new beginning.

He heard footsteps behind him and straightened. "I didn't think you'd come," he said softly, not daring to turn around. Even without seeing who was behind him he knew.

There was the sound of a heavy exhalation, then the snap of a lighter. "I didn't expect to hear from you again."

Yuki's voice. It washed over him, calmed his nerves like only Beyblading had in recent times. It bolstered his confidence and allowed him to stand and turn, finally facing the subject of his inner turmoil. "I had to think things over," he confessed. "Even after my memory returned, I had to be sure of my feelings."

Yuki's expression didn't change. The only sign of his nerves was the extra-long drag he took from his cigarette. "And what did you decide?"

Ryou couldn't help his tiny grin. He really had missed the novelist. "I decided that I couldn't decide, not until we go out once. Avoiding you was only making it harder, so spending time with you should help."

Yuki's eyebrow twitched, though there were traces of a smile on his lips. "I suppose you're right. You had to give me this to tell me that?" He held up the rumpled sheet of paper, the lyrics written on it in Ryou's messy hand.

A shrug. "I thought you liked criticizing them." Ryou dropped his gaze, though. Despite his glib words he really did care what the other thought of the song he'd so hastily scrawled out.

The novelist glanced at the sheet, brow wrinkling. "What little skill you have is out of practice," he noted. "However, for what it is, it not's that bad." He stepped towards the other and held it out. "Here."

Ryou stepped backwards, away from the offered sheet of paper. "I don't need it," he shrugged. It was the truth, too. It was something he'd written on the spur of the moment and had no intention of keeping. "You can have it if you'd like."

Yuki shrugged, pocketing the paper. "So, going out," he said, changing the subject. "Where do you want to go?"

With that Ryou grinned. "I have an idea," he said cheerfully. "What're you doing on Sunday?"

. . . . . . .

Yuki was waiting for Ryou at the entrance to the amusement park when Sunday rolled around. He was in casual clothes, sunglasses hiding his eyes from the crowd around him. No one seemed to notice him as he leaned against the gate, streaming by him into the park chattering happily. It was just what Ryou had expected from him, he thought fondly as he approached.

"Yuki!" he called to get the other man's attention, waving his hand a bit as well. Even under the bright sun he was still dressed from neck to toe, his scars safely hidden from sight.

The blonde started towards him, a faint smile giving way to a scowl. "Who are these?" he demanded, gesturing at the group behind Ryou. The black-haired man held up his hands to forestall the expected angry rant.

"When I told them I was coming out they conveniently decided to come to the park today," Ryou said dryly. "They promised to leave us alone."

Max and Zeo tried their best to look innocent but failed miserably. "Don't blame Ryou, it was our idea," the android confessed. "We just wanted to keep an eye on him."

"He's family, after all," Max grinned. "So here are the ground rules," he said sternly, glaring between the two. "You," he pointed at Yuki, "Hurt Ryou and Draciel's having dinner. You," and he pointed at Ryou, "Call us if you need backup." That said, he stepped into the line without a look back, Zeo following suit.

Violet and brown blinked a few times before turning to meet each other. "That's something like I expected," Ryou admitted. "Sorry about that."

Yuki still looked annoyed, though his only response was to light up a cigarette. "Let's go, then."

. . . . . . .

The irate novelist slowly cheered up as the day went by with no appearances from Ryou's friends, and by noon he was back to his usual self. At least, the self that Ryou remembered. He was still cool and didn't talk much, but somehow that didn't bother the other as much as he thought it might. Somehow Yuki's cool presence was better than the author trying too hard to impress him, and he pretended not to notice when his companion didn't answer. Ryou, of late, was far more talkative than before he regained his memory. In between taking the roller coasters and playing the parlor games lining the sidewalk they sat at cafes and talked over coffee and soda.

During one such break Ryou was talking about his walks around town, describing his note-taking process and a few of the tunes he'd had stuck in his head. Yuki was staring at him impassively, unlit cigarette dangling from his fingers. He'd found out the hard way that the café workers didn't appreciate smoking in their establishments. He answered every once in a while, biting criticism that somehow warmed Ryou more than any praise could have. It was something that he remembered from before but he found that his reactions to it weren't remembered. He realized that when he retorted something scathing back, even as he hid a smile at the other's expense.

As the day drew to a close Max and Zeo only showed up once. They glomped Ryou, apologized to Yuki, and dragged him off to participate in an impromptu beyblade match. It took only a few minutes and Ryou beat his opponents soundly, but it gave Yuki a chance to settle back and watch this new Shuichi interestedly. He noted how the other introduced himself still as Ryou, despite claiming that his memories were mostly restored. This was puzzling to the author, since the Shuichi he knew was proud of who he had been and made no attempt to hide it before. Either Ryou was lying about his memory, or he wasn't sure who he was at the moment.

He didn't have much time to contemplate the possibilities as the match ended and the object of his thoughts returned, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry about that. Famous beyblader and all…"

Instead of answering he just scowled and turned away. "The park will be closing soon. Is there something else you wanted to do?"

"We've been doing everything I wanted," Ryou pointed out. "There has to be something you wanted to do today."

Yuki shrugged. "You wanted to come here."

There was a moment of silence before Ryou scowled. "Idiot," he scolded. "I came here to spend time with you and the last time I had fun, at least. If you didn't want to come you should have said so!"

With that he turned and walked towards the exit at a sedate pace. If he really had been angry, Yuki reflected before following, he'd have run off. He caught up easily and passed him, turning to face the annoyed beyblader.

"I came here because you had fun last time, too," Yuki admitted. "I'd have rather gone to see a movie."

Ryou sighed. "Then why didn't you say something before? There should be a movie playing somewhere."

Yuki glanced at his watch. "It's late. You should get home."

"Nuh-uh," Ryou said stubbornly. "I've had my fun today. We'll watch a movie and then you can tell me you never want to see me again or whatever." Despite his stern tone there was a hint of despair in his voice, and Yuki found that he couldn't resist.

"Fine," he sighed.

They couldn't find Max or Zeo to let them know they were going, but they went and found a movie theater with late night showings. The movie wasn't the best but Ryou had the most fun poking fun at it, tossing popcorn at the screen. Yuki, for the most part, watched Ryou in the faint light from the screen. Though neither of them knew it, they were having a lot of fun.

Later that night Ryou had to endure Max's ranting at him about wandering off, but he felt that it was all worth it. He'd finally, _finally_, gotten some answers.


	12. Chapter 11

Warnings and Disclaimer are in the first chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Ryou didn't think Yuki would call him again, not after having their date crashed. He'd enjoyed himself, sure, and finally put to rest all doubts on his feelings towards the blonde. That didn't mean that Yuki had had fun, and Ryou was quite prepared to never hear from him again. He was therefore very surprised when a few days later he spotted the novelist while he was going through town with his notebook. He made to turn the corner before Yuki spotted him, certain that everything was just a coincidence, but Yuki foiled his plans and started straight for him.

Glancing around for an escape route and finding none, Ryou sighed and leaned against the nearest wall to wait. Anywhere he ran Yuki was sure to see and, even if he didn't follow, he'd probably sic Ryuichi on him.

"Hi," he greeted when Yuki was close enough to hear, voice carefully neutral. He was glad to see the other man, and not just because of his memories either. Despite the brittle exterior he put on, Yuki was enjoyable to be around, something Ryou'd found that day.

"Hi," was the response, Yuki stopping in front of him. A cigarette was dangling from the edge of his mouth, moving as Yuki spoke. Ryou stifled a smile at that.

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, ignoring the growing stares from the passers-by. Ryou glanced around and saw that they were attracting attention, famous novelist and beyblader in the street. When the staring grew unbearable was when Ryou grabbed Yuki's arm and dragged him off.

"Let's go somewhere where people aren't watching us," the beyblader explained to a still-silent Yuki. Receiving no complaint, he guided them to a restaurant that he knew would be nearly empty. When they were settled across from each other, neither of them made a move to start the conversation. Seeing that Yuki wasn't interested in talking, Ryou opened his notebook and started writing in it again.

"That's the notebook you mentioned before," Yuki commented, finally breaking the awkward silence.

"Yeah." Ryou didn't look up, merely turned the page when his train of thought ended. It didn't take him long to find another as he glanced around before immediately scribbling again.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment, the only sound the scratching of pen against paper. The silence was only broken briefly when a waiter passed and they ordered drinks. They'd come and Ryou had filled several more pages with incomprehensible scribbling when Yuki, seemingly tired of just sitting there, reached over and plucked the notebook from in front of the beyblader.

"Hey!" Ryou protested, reaching across the table and nearly upsetting his soda and Yuki's coffee. The blonde, for his part, just scooted backwards out of reach and flipped to the start of the notebook. "Don't look at that, that's private!"

Yuki ignored him, flipping through the notebook quickly. "Your note-taking is haphazard," he criticized. "Things aren't related or grouped in any way. I'd hate to have to try to put together a novel out of this."

"That's because it's not for novels," Ryou grumped, slouching in his chair with his arms across his chest. "Those are ideas for songs."

"Are you returning to singing, then?" Yuki shut the notebook and slid it back across the table.

"I haven't decided," Ryou admitted, claiming his notebook and clasping it protectively against his chest. "For now I think I'll try and sell my songs, if there's anyone that wants them."

"Have you thought about sending them to Ryuichi?" Yuki asked blandly.

Ryou couldn't help his snort. "If he knew I was songwriting again then he'd drag me back to the studio. No thanks. I'm not ready to go back to the limelight."

"And yet you still beyblade," Yuki noted, pointing to the launcher on the other's belt. "Isn't that similar?"

Ryou shook his head, leaning back in his chair precariously. "Not really. When I beyblade… the focus isn't on me, not really. Everyone's watching Drasonet in the dish, and while they know I'm his partner, I'm controlling him, they all focus on him. And victories and defeats, they're team things. When I win, it's our win, and when I lose, we all do."

"Isn't that like being in your band, though?" Yuki took a sip of his coffee before continuing. "It's not just you up on stage, you've got your bandmates too."

"But I'm center stage," Ryou protested, letting the chair fall forward with a dull "clunk." "Everyone's watching me when I'm on stage, and I don't know if I'm ready for that again. I don't know if anyone would want me to do that again…" he added quietly, hand unconsciously reaching up to trace the scar still on his cheek. As he did so his sleeve slipped just a little bit down, revealing a sliver of pale skin between the edge of Ryou's glove and his sleeve. Yuki reached over and grabbed his hand, slipping his fingers under the sleeve to trace the scarred skin there. Ryou let out a panicked noise, tugging hard to try and free himself, but Yuki's voice silenced him.

"You think no one would want to see you because of these," Yuki stated evenly, tugging off Ryou's glove and dropping it to the table. Ryou protested, renewing his efforts to reclaim his hand, even as Yuki ran gentle fingers across the pale flesh of his palm. "I've noticed that you always wear these. Are you ashamed?"

Ryou's face was deep red by now. He turned his face away, not able to even look at the man across from him. "I got strange looks in the hospital. People would stare, and I don't want them to," he mumbled, giving up the struggle. Yuki's touch sent strange shivers up his spine, shivers he wasn't sure he liked.

"People stare at you now, though, don't they?" Yuki reminded him. "When you're walking down the street taking your notes, when you're beyblading, they watch you because they know who you are. You think it'd be different if they saw these?" He kept his eyes on the hand he held, turning it over and scrutinizing it carefully.

"I think if they saw," Ryou started, then stopped. This was touching on a personal issue for him, feelings he'd buried deep since his discharge from the hospital. He didn't even know why he was talking to Yuki about this at all. Sure they'd been close, but that wasn't the case now, right?

"I've seen them, you know," Yuki commented offhand, drawing Ryou's hand closer so he could slide his sleeve up. He revealed a pale arm, scar tissue stretched seemingly randomly over the limb. Ryou renewed his efforts to free himself, yanking himself backwards hard enough to tip his chair over. If it weren't for Yuki he'd have toppled backwards.

"How?" Ryou asked faintly, at the same time using his free hand to try and tug the sleeve of his shirt down. He couldn't remember ever having been in a position for Yuki to have seen him not wearing his usual clothes, which didn't let anyone see him.

"In the hotel room," was the reply, Yuki turning the arm in his hands this way and that. "You don't remember? You were wearing a short-sleeved shirt."

Ryou did remember, once he thought about it for a second. He'd woken up in just the short-sleeved black shirt Ryuichi had picked out for him. If Yuki had watched him all night…

"You saw them, and you still wanted to go out with me?" he wondered, dropping his free hand to the table. He didn't dare look up to see Yuki's expression, though he was certain the other could see just how red his face was. He wasn't sure if he was pleased or upset at the development.

Yuki looked up from the arm he held. "Why not?"

"Because they're ugly!" Ryou burst out, yanking his arm from Yuki's suddenly slack grip. He rolled his sleeve back down and grabbed for his glove. His hands were shaking so badly he couldn't get his hand in the fabric. "In the hospital I never left my room, and you know why? Because people would stare at me! It wasn't so bad when I was still bandaged up, but after they came off people kept looking at me. I didn't understand why at first, not until I saw myself in the mirror and saw the difference between me and everyone else. That's why the first chance I could I found a way to hide these scars. When people look at me now, they see me, not these scars." He finally got the glove on and clenched his fist, still not looking at Yuki.

"And if you went back to singing, inevitably people would see them," Yuki noted. "Ryuichi would get you into your old outfit, probably, and then you're afraid people won't see you anymore. They'll just see the scars and then you'll be left alone?"

"Something like that," Ryou said miserably. He heard Yuki get up but couldn't look up, too ashamed of his weakness to do so. It was a surprise, then, when he felt Yuki's hand on his cheek, brushing away tears he didn't realize had appeared.

"I've already seen you," the novelist said with his normal cool voice. "And yet here I am. What does that say to you?" He pulled a few bills from his pocket and left them on the table for their drinks before heading for the door.

Ryou sat there for a long while, occasionally drinking from his long-since warm soda. Only when it was gone did he stand, notebook held in limp fingers. He walked back to Max's house slowly, mind slowly considering the possibilities. Maybe he had been thinking about his scars the wrong way. He'd seen a few other train survivors in various places, others that had lost limbs, eyes, or were scarred much worse than him. Most of them hadn't tried to hide their disfigurements, had in fact seen them as badges of pride. They'd been glad to survive and shown their wounds without shame.

His encounter with Yuki was also a mystery to decipher. Yuki knew how horribly disfigured he was, he could have rebuffed his initial advance. He hadn't had to be there when Janet revealed the truth of his true identity, either. If Ryou wanted to be hopeful, maybe that meant Yuki really wanted him after all.

It was with a small smile that he got ready for bed. For the first time since the accident he didn't cringe when he looked in the mirror.

. . . . . . .

Ryou didn't see Yuki again for a few days, during which he went about his normal routine. At first he wasn't worried about the lack of contact. He was grateful for the space since it allowed him to contemplate the things that Yuki had told him, about how he felt on the matter.

When the fourth day passed with no sign of the blonde novelist, however, Ryou began to suspect that maybe Yuki wasn't telling the truth. If he'd meant what he said he would have contacted him. He was tempted to stop by Yuki's apartment again but didn't want to press his luck, though at the same time he wanted to see him again.

Ryou was wandering around town again like usual, notebook with his song notes in hand, but today he was too distracted by his thoughts to do anything with them. He still had it open, pen in hand, but he'd found an out of the way corner of a park somewhere. He wasn't hiding, he assured himself. He was just getting a new perspective on things. Nevermind that this park was outside his usual area and Yuki probably wouldn't find him again anyway. That was just part of the new perspective thing.

After staring blankly at the same spot for over an hour Ryou sighed, flipping the notebook shut. He could only focus on Yuki and that was a bit of a problem for him. He knew he still had feelings for the novelist, which wouldn't be a problem if he could be sure that they were reciprocated. This waiting was eating at his nerves and he didn't know how much longer he could stand without answers.

"Ryou!" a voice chirped next to his ear and he yelped, falling out of the swing he'd claimed. His notebook went flying and he scrambled to reclaim it before turning to see who had scared the life from him.

"Ryuichi," he sighed, hugging the book to his chest. "I expected to see you sooner."

"You haven't come to see me," the singer pouted, Kumagoro clutched in his arms as usual. "I was getting lonely! Hiro and Suguru are feeling left out too."

"Sorry," he apologized. He'd almost forgotten about his former bandmates but he hadn't figured out how to approach them. He certainly couldn't do it like he was, he thought. It was different when he hadn't known who he was, but now that he did and he hadn't retaken his spot he felt guilty, like he'd abandoned them. "I've been busy," he tried to explain lamely.

"You've been avoiding us," Ryuichi corrected, but there was a smile on his face. "I'm not mad, though I can't say the same for Hiro. He might ambush you somewhere and demand an explanation if you don't see him soon."

Ryou looked at the ground, toying with a corner of his notebook to keep his hands busy. "I keep meaning to. I just don't know what to say."

Ryuichi grinned, Kumagoro waggling his arms excitedly. "Just tell the truth! And here, you can do it here." The pink bunny produced a slip of paper from somewhere and offered it to Ryou, who took it after a moment's hesitation. He blinked down at it, taking a moment to decipher what it said.

"A concert?" he asked blankly. "I'm not singing again, you know."

"I didn't expect you to," Ryuichi agreed amiably. "But I still want you to come. Will you?"

Ryou checked the date on the ticket, thinking back to see if he had any beyblade matches in three days. "I think I'm free, unless Max drags me somewhere."

"Good!" Ryuichi bounced in place. "You'd better be there," he warned good-naturedly. Ryou looked down to pocket the concert ticket. By the time he looked up the singer had vanished as if he'd never been.

. . . . . . .

When the day of the concert came Ryou rode his bike over to where it would be. It was on the other side of town so he had to be sure to leave extra-early, since he still wouldn't take trains. Max and Zeo had declined his offer to come with, mostly because they couldn't afford tickets into the event. It would have been nice to have company, the former amnesiac mused, but he would do well on his own. He still had his beyblade so he wasn't entirely alone, Drasonet a constant presence.

He arrived just in time for the concert, securing his bike to the provided stand. He showed his ticket at the door and was let through, finding his way to his seat with little difficulty. Naturally Ryuichi had given him a ticket for the front row, which in this case was mere inches from the stage. It was within easy grabbing distance, Ryou thought distastefully. He was beginning to suspect Ryuichi was plotting something, but when was the singer not?

He had just taken his seat when the first band started playing. It turned out that it wasn't really a concert after all, just several bands playing one or two songs each. Ryou located a program and found that he'd have to sit through three more bands before Bad Luck actually came on. His ticket wasn't a backstage pass so he couldn't go looking for Ryuichi either, not that he was planning on it. He'd come to the concert because he told Ryuichi he would, not because he wanted to listen to music. He was hoping that afterwards he could slip away without any trouble.

The other bands weren't horrible, Ryou was glad to find. He made sure to keep hold of the program so he could look up the bands later. However, he was glad when Bad Luck finally took the stage, as it meant that he was that much closer to getting away. Ryuichi spotted him and grinned, waving a bit before turning to Hiro and Suguru. He'd evidently mentioned Ryou's attendance to them, as they both blinked twice before scanning the crowd. Ryou glowered at the singer but waved to his former bandmates. Hiro returned the wave with a scowl while Suguru just nodded at him.

"Hi everyone!" Ryuichi said cheerfully, waving at the crowd. For once there was no sign of Kumagoro anywhere. "Thanks for coming to see us, even if you came to see someone else! We have a new song for you guys today, one that a friend of mine wrote! He's in the audience right now, you know." Ryuichi winked at Ryou before turning his attention back to the crowd. "I hope you guys like it! It's called 'Go Ahead' and it's about beyblading!"

For a second Ryou couldn't believe his ears, even as Suguru opened the song on keyboards and Hiro strummed a few hard guitar riffs. When Ryuichi started singing, however, all of his hopes were dashed. Right there in front of everyone Bad Luck was performing the song he'd written and given to Yuki. He took comfort in the fact that at least no one else knew he'd written it, but if Ryuichi had the song then that meant that he'd probably figured out who the song had come from.

If that was the case, Ryou decided he'd be leaving right after the song was over. He wouldn't give Ryuichi the chance to do something that would out him. He'd tell the world who he'd been when he was ready, and today wasn't that day. For the moment he settled back to listen to what they'd turned his song into. It wasn't Bad Luck's normal style, but it wasn't bad either. It leaned more towards hard rock than rock pop like the rest of their songs, but given the nature of the sport of beyblade, it worked. When it was over Ryou had to grudgingly admit that despite the fact that he hadn't intended for the song to ever see daylight Bad Luck had turned it into a potential hit.

"Did you all like it?" Ryuichi asked breathlessly once the last note had faded. Ryou started wiggling through the mass of standing bodies towards the exit while the crowd roared. "I would tell you who wrote it," he lamented, "but I think he'd be mad at me. I'll just tell you all that Bad Luck has a new songwriter!"

It was uncommonly discreet of Ryuichi, Ryou mused, but he didn't change his course. He'd talk to the singer if he could get backstage but right now he was focused on getting out of the stadium before Ryuichi changed his mind. It was with a sigh of relief that he reached the exit without Ryuichi doing something insane.

He wandered to the door leading to the backstage area, guarded by a large man in a black t-shirt. He was wearing a Bluetooth headset in his ear. Despite being intimidated by the man Ryou walked up to him. "I'm here to see Bad Luck," he said neutrally. "I'm Ryou Mizuhara, they know me."

The guard spoke into his headset before addressing Ryou. "Please wait here while the band is contacted. I'll let you know if they want to see you."

Ryou thanked the man and leaned against the wall a few feet away. For some reason he couldn't stay still while he waited, his fingers drumming against his arms and his feet tapping against the floor. It was a nervous energy he'd always possessed before his memory loss, only recently returned. He didn't know why it had gone dormant for the year his memory had been gone but it had returned shortly after the memorial concert. It was probably, he mused, because for that year he'd been focused on beyblading. After that he hadn't been beyblading nearly as much so his energy had to go somewhere.

It could go towards singing, a part of his brain whispered to him. He could still beyblade and sing if he was careful. He glanced at the guard, who hadn't moved an inch, before sighing and closing his eyes. If he went back to singing, went back to life as Shuichi Shindou, his life would go back to being in the public eye. Max and Mr. Mizuhara would be mobbed by reporters day and night unless he moved out, which was a possibility. With the income from his singing he could get an apartment by himself, and if he got it under an assumed name then he could keep his peace. And yet… that wasn't what he wanted. He liked staying with Max, liked the company he had with his teammates. If he went back to singing he could still beyblade, it was true, but it wouldn't be the same as before.

Did his teammates even know he was Shuichi? He thought about that with a start. Sure Max knew, but what about Zeo, Takao? He didn't know if he'd told them, and given how he'd been about his former life he probably hadn't. Maybe he should talk to them about it, get their advice. He knew he could trust them not to tell anyone if he chose not to go back to his old life. Well, he could trust Zeo, Rei, and Kai. Takao, on the other hand, was a bit of a blabbermouth, but he meant well.

His inner monologue was interrupted by the guard at the door. "You're good to go," the man said, stepping aside and opening the door. "Bad Luck is the fifth door down on the right. I'd advise against getting lost."

"Thanks," he said, stepping through and heading towards the allotted door. He heard Ryuichi's voice well before he got there, the singer rambling something about the song and Ryou and what other songs did he have? Rolling his eyes, Ryou didn't even bother knocking.

"Hi everyone," he announced himself, surveying the room. There was Hiro and Suguru in the corner huddled over sheet music and Ryuichi in the center of the room, Kumagoro once again at home in his arms.

"Ryou!" Ryuichi cooed, tackling him with the force of a bear. It was all Ryou could do not to fight back, still unaccustomed to physical contact as he was. He took a deep breath and counted to ten, promising himself that he wouldn't deck the singer right there.

"Ryuichi," he responded coolly. "Hiro, Suguru," he added, smiling weakly at his former bandmates. "Long time no see."

"You can say that again," Hiro snorted, setting aside the music and standing to greet him. "After we heard the news I thought we'd at least get a few phone calls. You didn't even come to the studio when we were there!" His voice, starting off friendly, slowly grew accusatory with every word. Ryou winced.

"Sorry. I had issues to work over," he said lamely. "I'm here now, right?"

"You could have at least told us you were writing again," Suguru said mildly. He stayed in his corner, the sheet music still in his hand. It didn't surprise Ryou. They hadn't been much closer than coworkers, after all. "It's a great song, but beyblading?"

"I like beyblading," he defended. "How did you know I wrote it, anyway?" he asked the question that had been bothering him. "Did Yuki tell you?"

Ryuichi's smile turned downright evil as he said innocently, "Why you just told us, Shuichi!" He placed special emphasis on the name, rolling it around like a song all its own. Ryou resisted the urge to correct the singer. He was Shuichi, after all. "Yuki wouldn't betray your confidence like that! After you gave him the song he dropped it off to Tohma, though he didn't say who wrote it. I liked it and I thought it was your style!"

Ryou hung his head. "I can't believe I fell for that!" He was grinning, though. "But announcing me as your new songwriter is a bit much. I haven't been writing songs seriously, they're just a hobby."

"Beyblading is just a hobby too," Ryuichi said mildly, waving Kumagoro's ears around. It was an odd sight, distracting.

"I beyblade professionally," Ryou defended his sport. "The world championships are going to be coming up soon, I can't waste much time writing songs."

"You could still write and beyblade," Hiro pointed out. "I mean, even if you beyblade full-time, there'll still be some time to devote to writing. It didn't used to take you long to write songs once inspiration hit."

"When inspiration hit," Ryou agreed, remembering the slump that had preceded his writing of "In the Moonlight". "I guess it wouldn't be too bad. I can't promise much, though!" he warned.

"I think we can motivate you," Ryuichi chimed in, digging into his pocket. "I told Tohma you'd be here and he asked me to deliver this." His eyes sparkled as he held out an envelope that was unmarked save for the name "Ryou Mizuhara". Intrigued, Ryou took the envelope, opening it while everyone watched. It was a check, he saw immediately. A check for an amount of money he'd never thought he'd see again. He sat down hard, eyes widening comically at the slip of paper in his hand.

"What's this for?" he asked a bit weakly. Certainly one song couldn't have been worth the amount of money he held in his hand!

"Royalties," Ryuichi said cheerfully.

"Even if you're not in the band right now," Hiro informed the stunned beyblader, "you still wrote the songs we sing. Of course you'd get paid for them."

All Ryou could do was sit there in shocked silence. After enduring all of a minute of it Ryuichi made a bored noise. "So so you didn't come to sit and think!" the singer chided him. "We haven't seen you in ages! Come on, what's going on? Tell us!"

Ryou pocketed the check with a smile. "Well, it's been the same old things," he began, telling his friends about his recent beyblading challenges as well as some of his latest songs. After that he heard Hiro telling him about the latest news buzz on what had been dubbed "The Memorial Concert Cover-Up". The latest rumor, Ryou was amused to hear, was that he was actually a former US Navy SEAL whose breakdown at the concert was due to a post-traumatic disorder.

"You could put those rumors to rest, you know," Hiro told him. "You wouldn't have to sing again but it would do everyone good to know that you weren't dead."

Ryou shook his head. "I don't want the media to have full disclosure of my life," he said. "At least, not right now. Maybe in the future," he conceded. He wasn't ready to admit it but he did miss singing. Maybe after the world championships…

He shook his head before checking his watch, surprised at how late it had gotten. "I've got to get home, Max'll be worrying about me," he said, standing and gathering his things. "I'll stop by the studio soon if," and he mock-glared at Ryuichi, "someone promises not to make me sing."

Ryuichi had the grace to look innocent. "Who, me?"

"Uh-huh." Ryou waved and took his leave.


	13. Chapter 12

Warnings and Disclaimer are in the first chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

He'd fully intended to go back home, so it was a surprise when he found himself in front of Yuki's apartment building. He sat on his bike and stared up at Yuki's window, deliberating. He'd missed Yuki since their encounter at the café, though why he missed someone who made making him cry into an art form was a mystery. He supposed it was because the biting criticism showed that the novelist cared, but at the same time he really wanted to punch him sometimes.

Making a decision Ryou parked his bike, locking it securely against a nearby rack. He spent the walk up wrestling his nervousness into submission. He didn't know why he was so nervous. Maybe it was because he expected Yuki to reject him despite his words in the café. Whatever the reason, it was with a heavy feeling in his gut that he finally approached Yuki's door. He didn't register knocking but he must have, since a few minutes later the door cracked opened, revealing a disheveled blonde with icy eyes.

"Ryou," Yuki acknowledged. Despite the late hour he was still fully dressed, a cigarette dangling from one hand.

"Yuki," Ryou responded. He didn't know why he was there and now that he was face to face with Yuki there was no leaving now. Lamely he asked, "How're you?"

"Fine." Yuki's stare was cool, his expression that of one bored. "What brings you around?" He leaned against the door frame, taking a long drag of his cigarette. Ryou only shrugged in reply, uncertain now. What had brought him around?

His body reacted before his mind caught up. The next thing he knew he had Yuki pinned against the wall in the blonde's apartment, his mouth firmly pressed against the other's in a passionate kiss. Yuki didn't respond, but that meant he didn't push him away, either, and after a moment Ryou pulled back, ducking his head as he caught his breath.

"I missed you," the beyblader finally said. "And it's not because of before. I missed you because I fell in love with you again."

It was the simple truth, though his face heated up in embarrassment. He hadn't wanted to seem needy and yet here he was. He must have looked desperate to Yuki, he thought, and the blonde's silence didn't help matters.

After a few uncomfortable moments Ryou turned to the door. "Sorry to bother you," he mumbled, biting back tears. He'd been stupid to do this, he berated himself. Yuki hadn't contacted him again because he didn't really want him. Why had he thought otherwise?

He didn't make it a step before a hand wrapped around his waist and dragged him back, the door slamming in front of him once he was clear. Before he could blink Yuki spun him around, pinning him against the door with hands on his shoulders. All Ryou could do was blink owlishly at him, too stunned for words. His mind was stuck on one thought, and that was disbelief. Yuki really wanted him?

"You came here just to tell me that?" Yuki's voice said, chill though it warmed Ryou inside. Boldly he nodded. "Did you come here for anything else?"

The beyblader's cheeks reddened again. "I hadn't thought that far."

"Of course not." Yuki could have smiled, Ryou wasn't sure, but he didn't have long to think on it before Yuki was kissing him again. It was a forceful kiss, Yuki reclaiming him with lips and tongue, and all Ryou could do was go along for the ride.

They made it to the bedroom before the first article of clothing came off, Yuki tugging Ryou's gloves off impatiently and tossing them off to the side. The black vest went next before Yuki started to pull off the turtleneck and Ryou showed the first signs of doubt. Suddenly panicked he backed away from Yuki, only stopping when he crashed into an inconveniently placed wall. He clutched the hem of his shirt, looking away from the blonde in shame. To his credit Yuki didn't show any outward signs of displeasure. He calmly approached the shivering beyblader, reaching down to grip the bare hand in his while at the same time pulling it away from his shirt.

"What's wrong?" Yuki asked. His voice wasn't cold this time and he seemed rather out of breath, although he kept his composure better than Ryou.

All Ryou could do was swallow, leaning into Yuki while he tried to calm himself. "Sorry," he said miserably. "It's just… no one…"

"You haven't undressed in front of anyone since the accident," Yuki guessed. With his free hand he drew the other into an embrace, pointedly keeping his hand well away from the hem of his shirt.

Ryou laughed a bit. "Not quite. The last person to see me naked was my doctor, in the hospital." He relaxed into the embrace, grateful for the support. "I didn't think anyone would want to see me, not after what happened. It's a bit scary," he confessed.

"We don't have to do anything," Yuki told him, though he really didn't seem happy. "It's late, you know where the blankets are." He started to pull away, but Ryou shocked them both by tightening his grip on the blonde's hand.

"It's all right." He looked up at Yuki, smiling a bit through a few tears in his eye. Right now he was a bit overwhelmed but he knew what he wanted. Resolutely he stepped back and pulled off his shirt, revealing the body he'd sworn never to show to anyone. He dropped his gaze as he did so, dropping the bit of cloth to the floor at his feet. He resisted the urge to cross his arms in front of him, instead clutching the fabric of his pants.

Yuki regarded him impassively, the scars crisscrossing his chest and abdomen, the pale skin between them. After a moment he reached out and brushed his fingers against the worst of the scars he could see, Ryou shivering under his touch. He then traced the scar on the younger man's cheek before lightly gripping Ryou's chin, forcing their eyes to meet.

"You're perfect," Yuki informed him. Sure it was cliché but he knew just what reaction those two words would have. After a moment of disbelief and denial Ryou's smiled tearfully and kissed him.

The next morning Ryou called home and made up an excuse for his absence that night before he took a shower. He was quite content with what had happened that night and for the first time in a while things seemed hopeful.

. . . . . . .

The months leading to the Beyblade World Championship Preliminaries were busy ones for Ryou and Team Gravity. He spent every moment he could training with his teammates and the Bladebreakers, working on strategies with Drasonet and refining his beyblading skills until he was certain he could beyblade unconscious. Max and Zeo were glad to see his renewed zeal, which had been waning since his memories returned. It was with a renewed sense of determination that Ryou tackled his challenges. He would win, he swore to himself, even if he had to take out the whole of the Bladebreakers to do it.

Most nights after training he would still walk around, though this was more for the relaxation than the songwriting inspiration. Instead of working on new songs he occasionally refined older ones from his notebook, tweaking melodies here and there. It wasn't really a high priority, to be sure. Even with the incentive of being paid for his work his heart, at the moment, was still with beyblading.

After walking around town, more often than not Ryou found himself back at Yuki's apartment. It wasn't something he'd planned on, same as the night he and Yuki had officially renewed their relationship. He'd stop by, have a cup of coffee with the blonde novelist, give him news or talk about his songs. He even discussed the possibility of renewing his singing contract with Bad Luck, though it was in a purely hypothetical matter and he made Yuki promise not to breathe a word to Ryuichi. Yuki growled out criticism or didn't answer most of the time, though Ryou knew that was just how he was. He grew to calling Yuki "cute" to his face when that happened.

The first time, though, he ended up outside a locked door.

Most days that Ryou ended up at Yuki's apartment he didn't stay long, just for a drink before departing. A few times he ended up staying the night and having to explain himself to Max, though his adopted brother teased him endlessly. It wasn't as if Max knew what he'd been doing, exactly, but he could guess.

It was like that that the few months before the preliminaries. Even though it was busy Ryou was happy. There were no mysteries in his life, he had a boyfriend who adored him, and he had a goal. The preliminaries dawned much like the previous, Ryou riding to the stadium on his bike. He stared up at the stadium for a bit, for once not nervous before this coming match. It was with a smile on his face that he rode around to the bike racks and secured his bike.

The inside of the stadium was a riot of people struggling towards the check-in and registration lines. Before diving into the masses Ryou had the good sense to check the leaderboards. It was to his relief that he saw Team Gravity among the checked-in teams, meaning he was able to bypass the lines entirely and head for the locker rooms. Team Gravity's assigned locker room was deep within the bowels of the building and it took a good few minutes of trekking through panicked beybladers before he located his safe haven.

"Hi Ryou!" Max greeted him, waving cheerfully. "Glad to see you could make it! You stayed over your friend's house last night again, didn't you?" His voice was light and teasing, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he tried to be stern. Ryou reddened at those words, telling the blonde all he needed to know. Thank goodness, Ryou thought as he took a seat next to Max and pulled out his beyblade, that Zeo hadn't showed up yet. He'd have to endure twice the teasing and he wasn't sure how much of that he could take today.

He didn't know if Yuki would show up, even. He'd gone to Yuki's last night to invite the blonde to the match, to see what he liked so much about beyblading, but Yuki had been noncommittal. Yuki had still been home when he'd departed, but he knew that Yuki had a car. If the blonde had really wanted to come he could drive.

Zeo arrived a few minutes later and the three of them settled into a quick discussion, strategies and lineups. They passed the time before the start of the tournament like, so absorbed in their conversation that they were startled by the voice calling all of the teams to the floor. Shooting each other knowing glances, they all stood and filed out.

Assembled on the stadium floor was a sea of people, beyblading teams eager to represent Japan at the World Championships. Ryou, Max, and Zeo were at the front of the sea, looking up at the stage that had been set up in the middle of the floor. On it was Mr. Daitenji, looking a tad smug, and DJ the announcer.

"Welcome everyone!" DJ shouted into the microphone, eliciting a cheer from the stadium around them. The force was like a blow to their eardrums. "One of these teams before you will go on to the World Championships, representing Japan and attempting to claim the title of World's Best from four-time champions the Bladebreakers!"

Ryou joined in the cheers from the stadium floor, shouting himself almost hoarse.

"But first we have a surprise for everyone!" DJ ginned madly and Ryou could have sworn the announcer winked at him. "To commemorate this event, we have a special performance for everyone! I'll let Mr. Daitenji fill you all in on the details!"

Mr. Daitenji took the microphone and coughed slightly, waiting for the cheers to die down. "Yes, well, a few months ago I was approached with this proposal. Up until now beyblade hasn't had much in the way of promption, only word of mouth and what commercials we can get shown on TV. But that's all changed! Thanks to the generosity of a band, the sport of beyblading now has its very own anthem!"

Ryou had to resist the urge to slam his head against the nearest flat surface.

"Welcome, everyone, Bad Luck!" Mr. Daitenji gestured behind him, where Ryuichi, Hiro, and Fujisaki were ascending to the stage, instruments in hand. "They've kindly agreed to perform their song for us today!"

A cheer erupted from the beybladers and audience, even as Ryou tried hard to resist the urge to yell at Ryuichi. Mr. Daitenji handed the microphone off to Ryuichi and vacated the stage.

"Hello everyone!"Ryuichi greeted cheerfully, waving. "Thanks so much for having us today, we're glad to be here! But we have a surprise for everyone!"

Ryou groaned, giving in to the urge to facepalm.

"I'll be having help singing this song! It would mean much more to you guys if one of you sung it, right?" Ryuichi said knowingly, bouncing around the stage as he did so. "And it's someone you all know, isn't that cool! Come on, Takao, help me sing for everyone!"

Ryou could have cried in relief if he weren't so stumped by the announcement. Takao climbed onto the stage, waving cheerily through the cheers he was receiving, accepting the microphone from an excited Ryuichi. Ryou had firsthand experience with Takao's lack of singing prowess, so why would Ryuichi ask him to sing?

"Hi guys!" Takao yelled, stretching up on his tip toes to wave as exuberantly as possible. "Are you ready?" He glanced back at Hiro and Fujisaki to check on them, getting thumbs-ups in response. "We are! Let's go!"

The opening chords of "Go Ahead" reverberated throughout the stadium, Takao attempting to dance. It only made Ryou wince sympathetically, although the audience didn't seem to mind. They cheered louder when Takao started singing. Ryou, thankfully, didn't have to plug his ears, but it was still bad enough for the wince on his face to become permanent. He couldn't stand his song being butchered like this.

He didn't register exactly when it happened, but the next thing he knew he was hauling himself onto the stage. The song was between verses so Takao wasn't singing, thank goodness, but that didn't stop him from talking.

"Ryou, what are you doing?" the other beyblader hissed, making a shooing motion. "You're ruining it!"

"You are," Ryou countered. "Did you even take Ryuichi's singing lessons seriously?" That had to be how Takao didn't totally suck, Ryuichi coaching him. The singer was still on stage grinning evilly, unused microphone in hand. Ryuichi winked at Ryou and tossed him the microphone, the beyblader catching it easily.

Ryou glanced down at the object in his hand before sighing and turning to the crowd, surveying it hopefully. He wasn't expecting to see anyone so it was with surprise that he caught Yuki's gaze in the back row. The writer had a cigarette in his hand, unlit, his face a cool mask. It was reassuring, though, giving Ryou the courage to lift the microphone to his lips. The second verse of his song started and he threw himself into it, rending Takao as background vocals and Ryuichi dancing somewhere in the corner. His voice, unused though it was, was still much better than Takao's and the crowd grew silent for a few lyrics. It was when he hit the chorus again that the cheers started.

The song ended too soon and not soon enough, the stadium lights hot in Ryou's face as he gasped for breath. He didn't notice Takao taking his leave, Ryuichi slipping back to Hiro and Fujisaki, just the light on his face and the cheers echoing around him. Yuki's gaze pierced him across the distance, and suddenly things clicked into place.

"Sorry to take over," he spoke, bringing instant silence. Thousands of eyes were boring into him but for the first time it wasn't uncomfortable. "I just couldn't stand it. My song deserved better than Takao, no offense to him." He grinned at where Takao had reappeared in the stands, winking to show he didn't mean any harm. To his credit the other beyblader waved back, grinning madly.

There was a murmur in the stands at those words and Ryou nodded to the unspoken question. "Yes, I said 'my song'. I have a bit of an announcement," he declared, inwardly shivering. It was only Yuki's face across the sea of people that held him in place, giving him the courage to say what he had to. He glanced down at the teams before him, at Max looking at him in understanding, at Zeo looking confused. Taking a deep breath he continued. "As you all know, I was in the train accident that claimed Shuichi Shindou's life. However, that's a bit of a lie."

The crowd exploded into sound, shouts and jeers directed at him. Ryou waved them down impatiently. "The fact that I was in the accident was true. However, Shuichi didn't die." It was odd, he decided, referring to himself in the third person. "He just lost his memory. So, in a sense, you could say he died." Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for his next words. "I'm sorry for worrying everyone. It's taken me a while to come to terms with it, but I am Shuichi Shindou." He bowed for lack of anything else to do.

There was absolute silence in the vast stadium. Ryou, no, Shuichi looked around uncertainly, not sure what to do now that his secret was out. For lack of anything he said, "I started to regain my memories at the memorial concert, but I didn't think I could go back to singing again." He pulled back a few locks of hair to show the scar marring his face and grinned sheepishly. "It wasn't until Takao started singing my song that I realized, I want to sing again. So," and he took another deep breath, a grin spreading across his face. "I'm here to announce that after the Beyblade World Championships, I will be retaking my place as the lead singer of Bad Luck."

Finally the stadium erupted into sound again, deafening cheers nearly knocking Shuichi from his feet. He just grinned and waved, surrendering the microphone to DJ and hopping down to rejoin his teammates on the floor. Max nearly strangled him in his enthusiasm while Zeo just looked dumbfounded. DJ was announcing again, but everything seemed unimportant in light of his newfound joy.

Shuichi Shindou wasn't dead, and finally, he wasn't afraid of being himself. Shuichi glomped his teammates, saw Yuki at the front of the crowd, piercing him with his eyes. He saw Hiro and Fujisaki taking down their instruments looking marginally happier than before. And Ryuichi was grinning openly at him, waving Kumagoro at him.

Shuichi took a deep breath and laughed.


End file.
